POUNDING METAL FEST VIII
Sala El Grito, Madrid, Spain
May 10, 2014
It’s hard to know where to begin these stories sometimes. I could begin our tale on the morning of Friday, May 9, 2014, when Jen
and I arrived at Madrid’s Barajas Airport, bleary-eyed but excited. I could talk about how we waited for our friends in Widow to emerge at
the arrivals area of the terminal, and how we watched the members of Raven and The Rods emerge one by one from that same area. I could go
into detail about how our kind host Nacho of the Pounding Metal Union (the Spanish heavy metal club that’s been putting on the Pounding Metal Fest in
Madrid for the last eight years) picked us up from the airport and drove us around town, how we met up with various other Pounders at an outdoor café,
became fast friends with them (language barrier be damned), drank beer and ate incredible sliced ham and potatoes and laughed all afternoon, got completely
befuddled by a Spanish breathalyzer machine in the parking garage, and so on. I could talk about watching the Friday evening sunset
from our hotel balcony, even as our bodies complained vociferously about the lack of sleep and the abundant alcohol consumption. I could
write pages about the Friday night pre-party at the Hellraiser metal pub that involved the three Widows and the two Ekmans hanging out with the Gallagher
brothers and Joe Hasselvander from Raven for hours, listening to them regale us with endless hilarious stories borne of three decades of metal
mayhem. But I’ll start the tale on Saturday morning instead. Here goes …
Logistics were complicated for the Pounding Metal Fest. All the bands were scattered around different hotels near the city center
of Madrid, but the festival itself was being held in Fuenlabrada, a suburb located approximately 22 kilometers southwest of the city center.
Transporting bands, hangers-on (yeah, that’s me), and gear all that way was a challenge. But the Pounding Metal Union was
prepared. Shortly after noon, we were met at our comfy Hotel Isis by Pounders in two separate vehicles, who divided up Team
Widow and drove us to the venue. Sala El Grito is a tricky place to find, because it’s not readily accessible by car, instead being cut off
from the rest of the town by a park, so nobody really parks their vehicles close by. I guess there’s a public transportation station nearby;
otherwise, I’m not sure how the hundreds of festival attendees were able to get there and get home. I liked the venue immediately when we
walked in. Not really a bar, Sala El Grito is set up more like a music hall, with a large stage facing an open room with capacity of
approximately 400. A line of road cases on one side of the floor denoted the bar area, and a line of road cases on the other side of the
floor denoted the merch area. A great thing about the merch area was that it had perfect sightlines to the stage, so Jen and I (okay, mostly
Jen, since I tend to get distracted by rocking out during a show) were not screened off from viewing the gigs by virtue of our Widow merch
duties. It was a professional looking venue from top to bottom, and far less expensive for the Pounding Metal Union to rent than
facilities closer to the center of Madrid.
By now it was 1:30 p.m. or so and we were all starving. A couple of Pounders walked us over to a nearby restaurant, where Team Widow was seated in the middle of a long table, ookended on one side by the members of Mallorca thrash band Breathless, and on the other side by The Rods (sans David Feinstein) and their friends.
Over the next two hours, we had a delightful, traditional Spanish meal as we got acquainted with the other bands. Eduardo and the other
two members of Breathless were as friendly as they could be, notwithstanding the language barrier. It’s hard to think of what it must be like
to be a thrash metal band on a tiny island – they pretty much have to fly every time they want to play a gig. The Rods were a bit more
reserved at first, but they warmed to us quite a bit over the course of the meal. I was seated next to bassist Gary Bordonaro, and across
the table from drummer Carl Canedy’s wife Patty, who was sitting next to Carl. Once they started talking, Gary, Carl and Patty were
all enormously friendly and kind. It was more than a bit surreal, to be sitting there, eating Spanish cuisine and chatting politely with
these people whose music I’ve been listening to since I was a teenager, many many moons ago. So I just sat there with a big grin on my
face, eating my paella (with calamari rings), drinking red wine, and trying to soak it all in. The meal was an amazing experience, like
sitting in on a heavy metal round table joining generations of metal bands together. It was a really cool thing, and surprisingly
inexpensive for the multicourse meal (just 11.50 Euros for each of Jen and me to enjoy an appetizer, main course, dessert, coffee and wine).
By the time we waddled with overstuffed bellies back over to Sala El Grito under the blazing Spanish sun, it was almost time for the doors to
open. The venue had transformed markedly while we were away. In particular, the merch area was bustling with band
merch and other vendors. So Jen and I found a spot for Widow merch, consulted with a Pounder (thanks Tato) for reasonable merch prices, and
got everything set up in short order. My first t-shirt sale was to one Carl Canedy of The Rods, who said he was looking for a shirt to wear
during the gig and wanted the Widow shirt. High praise indeed. So I told Carl how much I was looking forward to
seeing The Rods tonight and how Sal Italiano of Anvil had mentioned to me last month what a killer live band The Rods still are now. Carl
responded, “well, you shouldn’t be” looking forward to the gig, and basically suggested that they’re old and not very good anymore. He
didn’t say it in a way that sounded sarcastic or funny, more like rueful and serious. That was kind of a bummer. So I
said, “Carl, I don’t care what you say. I bet you guys are going to kick ass tonight.” Prophetic words, indeed, as Carl
walked away wearing his brand-new Widow ‘Life’s Blood’ shirt (bloody nun and all) for his stage attire.
The doors opened at 4:00 p.m., and Sala El Grito filled up immediately. I learned later that there were 337 paid
attendees at the festival, and I swear every one of them was there from the very beginning onward. So it wasn’t one of these situations where
the opening bands have to play to an empty house and the room fills for the headliners later on. The Spanish metal legions were out in
full force from the word “go” today, which was beautiful to see. Interestingly, though, they would only remain in the venue while a band
was onstage. In between bands, nearly everyone went outside. I don’t know why. It was hot outside. Maybe people wanted to smoke?
Maybe somebody had beer stashed in their car? I don’t know. It was a strange phenomenon to see. I never went outside because I was selling Widow merch and chatting with people in between bands, and besides I liked the air conditioning and cold beer inside the venue just fine.
First up in today’s running order was California’s Night Demon, who hit the stage promptly at 4:30 p.m. This newcomer trio is an
interesting case. They flew to Europe a week or two before the Keep It True Festival in April, and had been gigging all around the
continent for the intervening three weeks between KIT and Pounding Metal Fest. What’s more, the drummer told me they were continuing
on tour in Europe all the way through the first week of June, with only three nights off the whole time. He said most nights they were
playing to between 10 and 50 people, and they were driving from gig to gig in a van. Wow, that’s a tough way to pay your dues, but obviously
something’s working for them, since Night Demon just got signed to SPV/Steamhammer for the release of their debut full-length album this
fall. Live, Night Demon came across as a tight, polished act. I totally dug the lefty guitarist Brent Woodward, sporting the white Flying V and churning out one killer riff after another. Short-haired singer/bassist Jarvis Leatherby is a bit of a whirling dervish, working the stage with aplomb.
They played all four songs from their debut EP on Shadow Kingdom Records, plus a bunch of other like-minded tracks, and seemed to go over well with the
Spanish crowd with their brand of NWOBHM-obsessed throwback metal, which sounded much like the unholy matrimony of Diamond Head and Motorhead.
Only blemish was when Jarvis threw a bit of a temper tantrum onstage complaining about the sound and throwing up his arms in disgust.
Not too cool, but the gig was enjoyable for sure.
In keeping with the power trio theme of the Fest, our new Mallorcan friends Breathless were up next. I’ll be honest: they had a tough time. For
starters, the room was significantly emptier for their performance than it had been for Night Demon’s. I guess lots of people just decided
to stay outside rather than come in for the next band. Worse was the stage sound, which absolutely buried Eduardo’s guitar underneath a wall
of clanging bass guitar. For a thrash band like Breathless, those razor-sharp guitar riffs are key; unfortunately, no one could hear
them. Also, Eduardo had told us at lunch how the band had recently shifted from a four-piece to a three-piece, with the second guitarist
switching to bass. The newness of their trio status showed, as there was a definite lack of dynamics in the live presentation.
If all of this sounds like I’m dogging Breathless, I certainly don’t mean it that way at all. They had a tough time up there, for sure,
but they soldiered and delivered the best gig they could. I came away with a copy of their debut CD, ‘Thrashumancy,’ and have every
intention of checking out their forthcoming sophomore album (from which I understand most of the live tracks tonight were culled) when it becomes available.
In the third slot, with a fine 6:20 p.m. start time, were our pals in Widow. I don’t know what I can say about a Widow gig
now that I haven’t already, given that I’ve seen them roughly two dozen times in the last three years. Besides, Jen and I are close friends of
theirs, so I’m obviously hugely biased. But Widow were awesome tonight. This has got to be one of the top 5 shows
I’ve seen them play. They owned the stage and the large crowd from the first notes of “Take Hold of the Night” until the very end.
Guitarist Chris Bennett and bassist/vocalist John E. Wooten were all smiles all night long, and delivered full power and full energy all the way
through. Drummer Jason Wheeler was obviously more comfortable tonight than he had been on the Destruction tour in March, having had more time
to get in sync with the tunes and working from a click track (when it worked properly) to keep the timing issues to a minimum. The
Pounding Metal Fest crowd gave Widow an amazing reaction, including multiple “Wi-Dow, Wi-Dow, Wi-Dow” chants and even one of those “ole, ole ole ole,
oleeeeeeee, ole” soccer chants. Their front-of-the-house ound was very good, with my only complaint being that John E.’s vocals were too
low in the mix (and were damn near inaudible during “Take Hold of the Night”). I was extra-happy with Widow’s gig tonight because
“The Pleasure of Exorcism” was back in the set tonight (it was conspicuously missing throughout the Destruction tour because they hadn’t had time to learn it
with Jason yet). I love that song, and think it is the absolute perfect Widow set closer, so all felt right with the world that it was
back in there tonight. Overall, it was a positively triumphant Widow show in Madrid, and one that I will remember always. The audience’s enthusiasm was manifested not only in their voices, but also in their generous purchase of Widow band merch after the gig. We sold more Widow merch tonight than I can ever
remember at any show before, which definitely took the financial pressure off the remainder of our visit to Spain. Thank you, thank you,
thank you, Madrid! Set list: Take Hold of the Night, Re-Animate Her, Lady Twilight, American Werewolf in Raleigh, Nightlife, Beware the Night, Angel Sin, The Pleasure of Exorcism.
The fourth band of the night was Crisix, a Spanish thrash/crossover act that worships at the altar of Suicidal Tendencies, Municipal Waste, etc. They were the only band of the evening for which I was not standing at the rail; instead, I watched Crisix’s set from the merch booth because Jen and I were busy selling Widow merch.
That said, I had a good vantage point for most of their set and watched it closely. Crisix were the only non-trio of the night, and
honestly it looked kinda funny for there to be five people on stage. They presented their crossover material at high velocity, and with a good
dose of humor in some of their goofy interludes. Vocals were of the high/screamy variety. I’d never heard the band before
tonight, but two of their songs, “Ultra Fucking Thrash” and “Get Into the Pit,” made enough of an impression that I could still sing you their choruses a week
later. Not sure their style of music is really my thing, but they seemed to go over pretty well with the Pounding Metal Fest crowd.
At 8:45 p.m., it was already time for the fifth act of the night, The Rods. My only points of reference for The Rods are ‘Let Them Eat Metal’ and ‘The Rods Live,’ both of which I had on LP in the mid-80s and played the hell out of; however, their other recordings are mostly unknown to me. So I figured (correctly) that I wouldn’t know a lot of their songs. I also was a bit concerned based on Carl’s remarks to me that maybe this set would come across as a bunch of tired old
men. Those doubts were dispelled almost immediately, because The Rods came out with guns blazing. It was as if these three
gentlemen had saved all of their energy, all of their power, all of their enthusiasm for this one shining 75-minute window of time.
They were amazing. Bassist Gary Bordonaro (with his flowing gray hair) was like a pinball bouncing across the stage, rocking out,
singing brilliant backing (and occasionally lead) vocals. The diminutive guitarist/vocalist David “Rock” Feinstein (who is definitely no
taller in stature than his late, great cousin, Mr. Ronnie James Dio) was a bit more subdued, but ripped out the rockin’ riffs, sang splendidly, and locked in
tight with Bordonaro for a seemingly endless array of choreographed rockin’ out parts. And Canedy (looking resplendent in his Widow t-shirt)
was rock-solid behind the drum kit, although he frequently pointed to the sound man to complain that his monitor volume should be higher or lower.
Canedy even offered up an outstanding drum solo (crossing himself for good luck before he did so), and I don’t even like drum
solos as a general rule. In terms of the material, there were loads of songs I didn’t know, but it was awesome to hear stuff like “Hurricane,”
the Bordonaro-sung “Devil’s Child,” “Let Them Eat Metal,” and of course encore “I Live for Rock’n’Roll.” Many of the unfamiliar songs were
stellar too, including “Too Hot to Stop,” “Night Lives to Rock,” “Power Lover,” and so on. The audience went absolutely ballistic during The
Rods’ set, with crowd surfers, stage divers, and various drunken antics in the pit. For my part, I was astonished and so pleased with The
Rods’ performance. They were the surprise hit of the festival, by far, and served up a massive lesson in “how it’s done” for younger
bands to follow, emulate, and strive to achieve. Wow. Set list: Kill the Pain, I Just Wanna Rock, Evil in Me, Devil’s Child, Let Them Eat Metal, Born to Rock,
Hurricane, Night Lives to Rock, Violation, drum solo, Devil Made Me Do It, Burned By Love, Wild Dogs, Waiting for Tomorrow, Too Hot to Stop, Cold Sweat and
Blood, Nothin Goin on in the City, Crank It Up, Power Lover. Encore: I Live for Rock and Roll.
Raven know exactly how to pull off a brilliant headlining set. And tonight, did they ever deliver the goods. This is the fourth time I’ve seen Raven since November
2012, so of course I knew exactly what to expect. But with the possible exception of the Pathfinder Metalfest show in Atlanta, this just
might be the best I’ve ever seen Raven. They were superb tonight. The setlist was, as always, littered with heavy
metal gems, from the opening salvo of “Take Control,” “Live at the Inferno” and “All for One” to the incredible “Speed of the Reflex” / “Mind over Metal”
medley, to “Faster than the Speed of Light,” to the crowd-pleasing “On and On,” Raven have got terrific material for miles. Much to my
surprise and happiness, “Firepower” made its way into the set tonight too. Love that track. The Gallagher brothers worked the stage and the crowd, whipping us all up into a frenzy and never showing a trace of exhaustion or fatigue during their 80+ minute performance. Raven are the kings, and they proved it again
tonight. The only thing that bummed me out a little was the technical problems that visibly dampened the Gallaghers’ mood.
John’s bass rig went out at the very beginning of “Breaking you Down,” forcing the band to play the entire song with just guitars, drums and vocals
while John futzed with his gear and gave directives to the stage manager, all while singing into his headset. Mark got frustrated at the
volume level on his microphone and slung it to the ground. And there were all sorts of rumblings from backstage afterwards that the
Raven lads had let their displeasure be known to the powers that be at Pounding Metal Union. But no matter: For me and the other 300+ people
out front, this was a gig for the ages, perhaps the closest we’ll ever see to a definitive Raven performance. Set list: Take
Control, Live at the Inferno, All for One, Hard Ride, Breaking You Down, Rock Until You Drop, guitar solo, Stay Hard (partial), Speed of the Reflex, Mind over
Metal, Into the Jaws of Death, Faster than the Speed of Light, Firepower, On and On. Encore: bass solo, Break the Chains.
With that, the eighth edition of the Pounding Metal Fest came to a close, just before midnight. The crowd thinned out
quickly, I guess because people had to hoof it back to the train station to get home. As per usual, Team Widow stuck around until the very
end, shaking hands, drinking beers, taking photos, sharing laughs, and generally hanging out with anyone and everyone. Eventually, the kind
Pounders who had agreed to drive us back to our hotel grew weary, so in deference to them we left.
It’s hard to know how to end these stories sometimes. That wasn’t the end of the night, much less the end of our Spain trip. I could tell you about doing shots of
mead with a restaurant owner and waitstaff at 3:00 a.m., about drunk dancing to “Crazy Crazy Nights” and “Here I Go Again” and a bunch of other
tripe in a metal club at 4:30 in the morning (I shudder to think that there is video of this event), about sitting on the balcony talking with my wife and my
pals until the sun came up, then still not wanting to go to bed because none of us wanted the night to be over. I could also go on ad
nauseum about Spanish cafes, sprained wrists, steak dinners, shoe stores, Madrid’s carnival, pigs’ ears, the Puerto del Sol, the Cathedral, the Fallen
Angel statue, Madrid metal shops, tapas bars, and navigating the metro system to the airport on one hour’s sleep after too much beer. But
those are all stories for another day. The important thing for purposes of *this* story is that the Pounding Metal Fest ruled, and we had
the time of our lives. Madrid may be far away, but it is ever in our hearts.
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~
Sala El Grito, Madrid, Spain
May 10, 2014
It’s hard to know where to begin these stories sometimes. I could begin our tale on the morning of Friday, May 9, 2014, when Jen
and I arrived at Madrid’s Barajas Airport, bleary-eyed but excited. I could talk about how we waited for our friends in Widow to emerge at
the arrivals area of the terminal, and how we watched the members of Raven and The Rods emerge one by one from that same area. I could go
into detail about how our kind host Nacho of the Pounding Metal Union (the Spanish heavy metal club that’s been putting on the Pounding Metal Fest in
Madrid for the last eight years) picked us up from the airport and drove us around town, how we met up with various other Pounders at an outdoor café,
became fast friends with them (language barrier be damned), drank beer and ate incredible sliced ham and potatoes and laughed all afternoon, got completely
befuddled by a Spanish breathalyzer machine in the parking garage, and so on. I could talk about watching the Friday evening sunset
from our hotel balcony, even as our bodies complained vociferously about the lack of sleep and the abundant alcohol consumption. I could
write pages about the Friday night pre-party at the Hellraiser metal pub that involved the three Widows and the two Ekmans hanging out with the Gallagher
brothers and Joe Hasselvander from Raven for hours, listening to them regale us with endless hilarious stories borne of three decades of metal
mayhem. But I’ll start the tale on Saturday morning instead. Here goes …
Logistics were complicated for the Pounding Metal Fest. All the bands were scattered around different hotels near the city center
of Madrid, but the festival itself was being held in Fuenlabrada, a suburb located approximately 22 kilometers southwest of the city center.
Transporting bands, hangers-on (yeah, that’s me), and gear all that way was a challenge. But the Pounding Metal Union was
prepared. Shortly after noon, we were met at our comfy Hotel Isis by Pounders in two separate vehicles, who divided up Team
Widow and drove us to the venue. Sala El Grito is a tricky place to find, because it’s not readily accessible by car, instead being cut off
from the rest of the town by a park, so nobody really parks their vehicles close by. I guess there’s a public transportation station nearby;
otherwise, I’m not sure how the hundreds of festival attendees were able to get there and get home. I liked the venue immediately when we
walked in. Not really a bar, Sala El Grito is set up more like a music hall, with a large stage facing an open room with capacity of
approximately 400. A line of road cases on one side of the floor denoted the bar area, and a line of road cases on the other side of the
floor denoted the merch area. A great thing about the merch area was that it had perfect sightlines to the stage, so Jen and I (okay, mostly
Jen, since I tend to get distracted by rocking out during a show) were not screened off from viewing the gigs by virtue of our Widow merch
duties. It was a professional looking venue from top to bottom, and far less expensive for the Pounding Metal Union to rent than
facilities closer to the center of Madrid.
By now it was 1:30 p.m. or so and we were all starving. A couple of Pounders walked us over to a nearby restaurant, where Team Widow was seated in the middle of a long table, ookended on one side by the members of Mallorca thrash band Breathless, and on the other side by The Rods (sans David Feinstein) and their friends.
Over the next two hours, we had a delightful, traditional Spanish meal as we got acquainted with the other bands. Eduardo and the other
two members of Breathless were as friendly as they could be, notwithstanding the language barrier. It’s hard to think of what it must be like
to be a thrash metal band on a tiny island – they pretty much have to fly every time they want to play a gig. The Rods were a bit more
reserved at first, but they warmed to us quite a bit over the course of the meal. I was seated next to bassist Gary Bordonaro, and across
the table from drummer Carl Canedy’s wife Patty, who was sitting next to Carl. Once they started talking, Gary, Carl and Patty were
all enormously friendly and kind. It was more than a bit surreal, to be sitting there, eating Spanish cuisine and chatting politely with
these people whose music I’ve been listening to since I was a teenager, many many moons ago. So I just sat there with a big grin on my
face, eating my paella (with calamari rings), drinking red wine, and trying to soak it all in. The meal was an amazing experience, like
sitting in on a heavy metal round table joining generations of metal bands together. It was a really cool thing, and surprisingly
inexpensive for the multicourse meal (just 11.50 Euros for each of Jen and me to enjoy an appetizer, main course, dessert, coffee and wine).
By the time we waddled with overstuffed bellies back over to Sala El Grito under the blazing Spanish sun, it was almost time for the doors to
open. The venue had transformed markedly while we were away. In particular, the merch area was bustling with band
merch and other vendors. So Jen and I found a spot for Widow merch, consulted with a Pounder (thanks Tato) for reasonable merch prices, and
got everything set up in short order. My first t-shirt sale was to one Carl Canedy of The Rods, who said he was looking for a shirt to wear
during the gig and wanted the Widow shirt. High praise indeed. So I told Carl how much I was looking forward to
seeing The Rods tonight and how Sal Italiano of Anvil had mentioned to me last month what a killer live band The Rods still are now. Carl
responded, “well, you shouldn’t be” looking forward to the gig, and basically suggested that they’re old and not very good anymore. He
didn’t say it in a way that sounded sarcastic or funny, more like rueful and serious. That was kind of a bummer. So I
said, “Carl, I don’t care what you say. I bet you guys are going to kick ass tonight.” Prophetic words, indeed, as Carl
walked away wearing his brand-new Widow ‘Life’s Blood’ shirt (bloody nun and all) for his stage attire.
The doors opened at 4:00 p.m., and Sala El Grito filled up immediately. I learned later that there were 337 paid
attendees at the festival, and I swear every one of them was there from the very beginning onward. So it wasn’t one of these situations where
the opening bands have to play to an empty house and the room fills for the headliners later on. The Spanish metal legions were out in
full force from the word “go” today, which was beautiful to see. Interestingly, though, they would only remain in the venue while a band
was onstage. In between bands, nearly everyone went outside. I don’t know why. It was hot outside. Maybe people wanted to smoke?
Maybe somebody had beer stashed in their car? I don’t know. It was a strange phenomenon to see. I never went outside because I was selling Widow merch and chatting with people in between bands, and besides I liked the air conditioning and cold beer inside the venue just fine.
First up in today’s running order was California’s Night Demon, who hit the stage promptly at 4:30 p.m. This newcomer trio is an
interesting case. They flew to Europe a week or two before the Keep It True Festival in April, and had been gigging all around the
continent for the intervening three weeks between KIT and Pounding Metal Fest. What’s more, the drummer told me they were continuing
on tour in Europe all the way through the first week of June, with only three nights off the whole time. He said most nights they were
playing to between 10 and 50 people, and they were driving from gig to gig in a van. Wow, that’s a tough way to pay your dues, but obviously
something’s working for them, since Night Demon just got signed to SPV/Steamhammer for the release of their debut full-length album this
fall. Live, Night Demon came across as a tight, polished act. I totally dug the lefty guitarist Brent Woodward, sporting the white Flying V and churning out one killer riff after another. Short-haired singer/bassist Jarvis Leatherby is a bit of a whirling dervish, working the stage with aplomb.
They played all four songs from their debut EP on Shadow Kingdom Records, plus a bunch of other like-minded tracks, and seemed to go over well with the
Spanish crowd with their brand of NWOBHM-obsessed throwback metal, which sounded much like the unholy matrimony of Diamond Head and Motorhead.
Only blemish was when Jarvis threw a bit of a temper tantrum onstage complaining about the sound and throwing up his arms in disgust.
Not too cool, but the gig was enjoyable for sure.
In keeping with the power trio theme of the Fest, our new Mallorcan friends Breathless were up next. I’ll be honest: they had a tough time. For
starters, the room was significantly emptier for their performance than it had been for Night Demon’s. I guess lots of people just decided
to stay outside rather than come in for the next band. Worse was the stage sound, which absolutely buried Eduardo’s guitar underneath a wall
of clanging bass guitar. For a thrash band like Breathless, those razor-sharp guitar riffs are key; unfortunately, no one could hear
them. Also, Eduardo had told us at lunch how the band had recently shifted from a four-piece to a three-piece, with the second guitarist
switching to bass. The newness of their trio status showed, as there was a definite lack of dynamics in the live presentation.
If all of this sounds like I’m dogging Breathless, I certainly don’t mean it that way at all. They had a tough time up there, for sure,
but they soldiered and delivered the best gig they could. I came away with a copy of their debut CD, ‘Thrashumancy,’ and have every
intention of checking out their forthcoming sophomore album (from which I understand most of the live tracks tonight were culled) when it becomes available.
In the third slot, with a fine 6:20 p.m. start time, were our pals in Widow. I don’t know what I can say about a Widow gig
now that I haven’t already, given that I’ve seen them roughly two dozen times in the last three years. Besides, Jen and I are close friends of
theirs, so I’m obviously hugely biased. But Widow were awesome tonight. This has got to be one of the top 5 shows
I’ve seen them play. They owned the stage and the large crowd from the first notes of “Take Hold of the Night” until the very end.
Guitarist Chris Bennett and bassist/vocalist John E. Wooten were all smiles all night long, and delivered full power and full energy all the way
through. Drummer Jason Wheeler was obviously more comfortable tonight than he had been on the Destruction tour in March, having had more time
to get in sync with the tunes and working from a click track (when it worked properly) to keep the timing issues to a minimum. The
Pounding Metal Fest crowd gave Widow an amazing reaction, including multiple “Wi-Dow, Wi-Dow, Wi-Dow” chants and even one of those “ole, ole ole ole,
oleeeeeeee, ole” soccer chants. Their front-of-the-house ound was very good, with my only complaint being that John E.’s vocals were too
low in the mix (and were damn near inaudible during “Take Hold of the Night”). I was extra-happy with Widow’s gig tonight because
“The Pleasure of Exorcism” was back in the set tonight (it was conspicuously missing throughout the Destruction tour because they hadn’t had time to learn it
with Jason yet). I love that song, and think it is the absolute perfect Widow set closer, so all felt right with the world that it was
back in there tonight. Overall, it was a positively triumphant Widow show in Madrid, and one that I will remember always. The audience’s enthusiasm was manifested not only in their voices, but also in their generous purchase of Widow band merch after the gig. We sold more Widow merch tonight than I can ever
remember at any show before, which definitely took the financial pressure off the remainder of our visit to Spain. Thank you, thank you,
thank you, Madrid! Set list: Take Hold of the Night, Re-Animate Her, Lady Twilight, American Werewolf in Raleigh, Nightlife, Beware the Night, Angel Sin, The Pleasure of Exorcism.
The fourth band of the night was Crisix, a Spanish thrash/crossover act that worships at the altar of Suicidal Tendencies, Municipal Waste, etc. They were the only band of the evening for which I was not standing at the rail; instead, I watched Crisix’s set from the merch booth because Jen and I were busy selling Widow merch.
That said, I had a good vantage point for most of their set and watched it closely. Crisix were the only non-trio of the night, and
honestly it looked kinda funny for there to be five people on stage. They presented their crossover material at high velocity, and with a good
dose of humor in some of their goofy interludes. Vocals were of the high/screamy variety. I’d never heard the band before
tonight, but two of their songs, “Ultra Fucking Thrash” and “Get Into the Pit,” made enough of an impression that I could still sing you their choruses a week
later. Not sure their style of music is really my thing, but they seemed to go over pretty well with the Pounding Metal Fest crowd.
At 8:45 p.m., it was already time for the fifth act of the night, The Rods. My only points of reference for The Rods are ‘Let Them Eat Metal’ and ‘The Rods Live,’ both of which I had on LP in the mid-80s and played the hell out of; however, their other recordings are mostly unknown to me. So I figured (correctly) that I wouldn’t know a lot of their songs. I also was a bit concerned based on Carl’s remarks to me that maybe this set would come across as a bunch of tired old
men. Those doubts were dispelled almost immediately, because The Rods came out with guns blazing. It was as if these three
gentlemen had saved all of their energy, all of their power, all of their enthusiasm for this one shining 75-minute window of time.
They were amazing. Bassist Gary Bordonaro (with his flowing gray hair) was like a pinball bouncing across the stage, rocking out,
singing brilliant backing (and occasionally lead) vocals. The diminutive guitarist/vocalist David “Rock” Feinstein (who is definitely no
taller in stature than his late, great cousin, Mr. Ronnie James Dio) was a bit more subdued, but ripped out the rockin’ riffs, sang splendidly, and locked in
tight with Bordonaro for a seemingly endless array of choreographed rockin’ out parts. And Canedy (looking resplendent in his Widow t-shirt)
was rock-solid behind the drum kit, although he frequently pointed to the sound man to complain that his monitor volume should be higher or lower.
Canedy even offered up an outstanding drum solo (crossing himself for good luck before he did so), and I don’t even like drum
solos as a general rule. In terms of the material, there were loads of songs I didn’t know, but it was awesome to hear stuff like “Hurricane,”
the Bordonaro-sung “Devil’s Child,” “Let Them Eat Metal,” and of course encore “I Live for Rock’n’Roll.” Many of the unfamiliar songs were
stellar too, including “Too Hot to Stop,” “Night Lives to Rock,” “Power Lover,” and so on. The audience went absolutely ballistic during The
Rods’ set, with crowd surfers, stage divers, and various drunken antics in the pit. For my part, I was astonished and so pleased with The
Rods’ performance. They were the surprise hit of the festival, by far, and served up a massive lesson in “how it’s done” for younger
bands to follow, emulate, and strive to achieve. Wow. Set list: Kill the Pain, I Just Wanna Rock, Evil in Me, Devil’s Child, Let Them Eat Metal, Born to Rock,
Hurricane, Night Lives to Rock, Violation, drum solo, Devil Made Me Do It, Burned By Love, Wild Dogs, Waiting for Tomorrow, Too Hot to Stop, Cold Sweat and
Blood, Nothin Goin on in the City, Crank It Up, Power Lover. Encore: I Live for Rock and Roll.
Raven know exactly how to pull off a brilliant headlining set. And tonight, did they ever deliver the goods. This is the fourth time I’ve seen Raven since November
2012, so of course I knew exactly what to expect. But with the possible exception of the Pathfinder Metalfest show in Atlanta, this just
might be the best I’ve ever seen Raven. They were superb tonight. The setlist was, as always, littered with heavy
metal gems, from the opening salvo of “Take Control,” “Live at the Inferno” and “All for One” to the incredible “Speed of the Reflex” / “Mind over Metal”
medley, to “Faster than the Speed of Light,” to the crowd-pleasing “On and On,” Raven have got terrific material for miles. Much to my
surprise and happiness, “Firepower” made its way into the set tonight too. Love that track. The Gallagher brothers worked the stage and the crowd, whipping us all up into a frenzy and never showing a trace of exhaustion or fatigue during their 80+ minute performance. Raven are the kings, and they proved it again
tonight. The only thing that bummed me out a little was the technical problems that visibly dampened the Gallaghers’ mood.
John’s bass rig went out at the very beginning of “Breaking you Down,” forcing the band to play the entire song with just guitars, drums and vocals
while John futzed with his gear and gave directives to the stage manager, all while singing into his headset. Mark got frustrated at the
volume level on his microphone and slung it to the ground. And there were all sorts of rumblings from backstage afterwards that the
Raven lads had let their displeasure be known to the powers that be at Pounding Metal Union. But no matter: For me and the other 300+ people
out front, this was a gig for the ages, perhaps the closest we’ll ever see to a definitive Raven performance. Set list: Take
Control, Live at the Inferno, All for One, Hard Ride, Breaking You Down, Rock Until You Drop, guitar solo, Stay Hard (partial), Speed of the Reflex, Mind over
Metal, Into the Jaws of Death, Faster than the Speed of Light, Firepower, On and On. Encore: bass solo, Break the Chains.
With that, the eighth edition of the Pounding Metal Fest came to a close, just before midnight. The crowd thinned out
quickly, I guess because people had to hoof it back to the train station to get home. As per usual, Team Widow stuck around until the very
end, shaking hands, drinking beers, taking photos, sharing laughs, and generally hanging out with anyone and everyone. Eventually, the kind
Pounders who had agreed to drive us back to our hotel grew weary, so in deference to them we left.
It’s hard to know how to end these stories sometimes. That wasn’t the end of the night, much less the end of our Spain trip. I could tell you about doing shots of
mead with a restaurant owner and waitstaff at 3:00 a.m., about drunk dancing to “Crazy Crazy Nights” and “Here I Go Again” and a bunch of other
tripe in a metal club at 4:30 in the morning (I shudder to think that there is video of this event), about sitting on the balcony talking with my wife and my
pals until the sun came up, then still not wanting to go to bed because none of us wanted the night to be over. I could also go on ad
nauseum about Spanish cafes, sprained wrists, steak dinners, shoe stores, Madrid’s carnival, pigs’ ears, the Puerto del Sol, the Cathedral, the Fallen
Angel statue, Madrid metal shops, tapas bars, and navigating the metro system to the airport on one hour’s sleep after too much beer. But
those are all stories for another day. The important thing for purposes of *this* story is that the Pounding Metal Fest ruled, and we had
the time of our lives. Madrid may be far away, but it is ever in our hearts.
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~