WARRIORS OF METAL IV FESTIVAL
Frontier Ranch, Kirkersville, Ohio
June 17-18, 2011
The 2010 installment of the Warriors of Metal Fest exposed a fledgling festival that
had a laudable mission statement (i.e., bringing a Euro-style open-air
true metal festival to the USA), but struggled in many respects with the
execution. After that frustrating experience, I and many others were vocal in
pointing out the problem areas. To their credit, fest organizers Datis and Lea
Alaee and Ryan Carroll took those somewhat painful critiques to heart, offering
a vastly improved product for the 2011 version of WOM Fest. From the new venue
(more about that a minute) to the strictly on-time operation to the flawless set
changes to the largely excellent sound system / soundman, the Festival took a
great stride forward in 2011. The fest organizers are to be praised for
bringing their “A” game and putting on a high-quality, professional festival
experience featuring a highlight-studded roster, a relaxed atmosphere, and a
picturesque outdoor environment, all at an extremely fan-friendly price.
Only two global problems (neither of which were fully within the organizers’ control)
put a damper on the proceedings. First, the frequency of last-minute
cancellations by confirmed acts – many of whom were highly anticipated by the
audience (i.e., yours truly) – was disappointing. By my count, no fewer
than six bands dropped off the roster in the weeks, days, and even hours leading
up to the fest, including Dantesco, A Tortured Soul, Spellcaster, Aura Azul,
Split Heaven, and Grimstone. Some of these bands had valid reasons for
canceling. Others, quite frankly, did not. While I’m not here to call anybody
out, it speaks poorly of a band to make a commitment to perform, then bail out
at the last second because of a lame excuse (or no excuse at all), leaving the
organizers holding the bag and letting your fans down. Nonetheless, there were
15 bands who did uphold their end of the bargain and appear at WOM IV, so I
choose to focus my energies on that positive rather than the negative of the 6
who bailed.
The other bummer of the weekend was attendance. Even as the organizers improved the
Warriors of Metal experience by leaps and bounds, the audience shrank. There
were undoubtedly fewer folks present at this year’s installment than at last
year’s. During most performances, it certainly appeared that the audience
consisted of more band members and festival staff than paying customers. That’s
not a sustainable business model. Certainly, lack of promotion is part of the
problem. But only part. Do you want a festival that caters to “our” kind of
heavy metal on our shores? Then you have to support it. And I don’t mean by
paying lip service to it either. I mean getting in the car, hopping on an
airplane, making it a priority, treating it like something important even if it
doesn’t have the marquee names, the chic word-of-mouth buzz, or whatever. I know
the economy sucks, money is tight, blah blah blah, but look: America is littered
with the bleached bones of defunct underground metal festivals. I’d hate to see
an event with as much promise as WOM Fest join that graveyard because U.S. metal
fans were too damned apathetic to bother showing up. Okay, enough with the
soapbox. With that prelude in place, it’s on to a standard, Ekman-style
narrative of how those two glorious metal-and-beer soaked days unfolded in the
forests of Ohio.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Jen and I awakened in a mighty comfortable guest bedroom at my sister’s house in
suburban Indiana. (We’d flown up from Alabama the day before to spend some time
with my sister, brother-in-law, and ass-kicking nephews aged 2 and 8 months.) By
10:00 a.m., we hopped in the rental car (a spiffy Ford Focus that got 37 mpg on
Interstate 70) and headed to Super Wal-Mart and the dollar store to stock up on
supplies: survival rations (bread, peanut butter, poptarts, bananas), beer (who
knew you could buy Goose Island beer in an Indiana Wal-Mart?), more beer,
plastic cups, a case of water, sunscreen, a sleeping bag (only $9.88 at
Wal-Mart), and a couple of $1.88 bath towels. Then it was back in the car for
the 200-mile trek to the Festival site. Unlike last year, when WOM Fest had been
held in the parking lot of the Ross County Fairgrounds in Chillicothe, OH (about
an hour south of Columbus), this year the venue was the Frontier Ranch, located
near Kirkersville, OH (about 30 minutes east of Columbus).
At 2:15, we pulled off Interstate 70 at Exit 122 in a rural area east of Columbus.
A couple of turns later, we saw the fading wooden sign for the Frontier Ranch,
complete with dilapidated rotting farmhouse (which appeared to be occupied,
believe it or not). We turned off the main road onto a muddy, pothole-strewn
makeshift dirt road that wound around in the woods for half a mile or so before
coming to a stop in a grassy field that was the WOM Fest parking lot. Ours was
the fifth or sixth car to pull into that lot. Upon exiting the now-mud spattered
rental car, we peered over the edge of the parking lot, down into the valley
that would be U.S. Metal HQ for the next 48 hours. The steep incline down the
embankment could best be navigated through a series of wooden slats that formed
a makeshift stairway. At the bottom of the hill, we could see a large covered
stage, including an area in front of the stage with a tin roof to protect
audience members from the elements. Large quantities of straw were strewn about
the area immediately in front of the stage. Evidently it had been raining quite
a bit in Kirkersville, so the straw was a mud control mechanism. A few other
simple wooden structures were also visible, including a small merch booth, a
food/drink booth, and a pair of long low buildings off to the far side of the
field. Those buildings housed rudimentary restrooms and shower facilities.
Directly in front of the stage, a huge deserted grassy field stretched out
almost as far as the eye could see. This would be the campsite. I must confess:
The Frontier Ranch didn’t immediately throw off positive vibes. The facility
had clearly seen better days, judging by the amount of rust, rot and benign
neglect that was readily visible throughout the area. Nonetheless, the stage was
large and protected from the elements, there was running water and electricity,
and it was all ours for the weekend. Ultimately, this site is a virtually ideal
location for a small outdoor metal festival, and I grew quite fond of that
Frontier Ranch by the end of the weekend.
Did I mention the goats? Yeah, there were goats at Frontier Ranch. In the festival
area. A whole family of them, including a fat brown ram, a white skinny
Beelzebub-looking one, and a number of smaller black ones. Amazingly, they
remained in the festival area for much of the daylight hours, placidly grazing
as pulverizing molten heavy metal music blared out of the PA system. The only
time I ever saw the farm people was when one of them came down to collect such
goats before dark. It sure was fun watching her struggle to pull the ram up the
steep embankment by its leash. Then again, I’m easily amused.
By 3:00 p.m., Jen and I had loaded in our gear and groceries, hauling them from the
car, down the embankment, across the festival grounds and to our tent on the
edge of the wooded area. We had not brought a tent from Alabama, but Lea Alaee
was kind enough to provide one for us in the staff area, in a great location
flanked on one side by Datis and Lea’s tent, and approximately 20 yards from the
bathrooms and shower facilities. Then we got to work setting up the merch booth.
We swept sawdust and spider webs from every surface. We threaded ropes through
the booth’s rafters for purposes of hanging tee shirts. We organized two huge
boxes of high-quality WOM Fest t-shirts and began collecting merch from each
band as they arrived on site, counting and inventorying the items, confirming
prices, and getting everything logged in. A nice innovation for us from a merch
booth standpoint was that Lea had obtained a programmable cash register to help
us keep track of cash transactions and band merch sales, yet another excellent
upgrade for WOM IV. This was all thirsty work, by the way, as it was a warm
afternoon with temperatures probably hovering around the mid-80s. Fortunately,
things cooled quickly, and by the evening hours we were comfortably in the low
70s or high 60s with a pleasant breeze. ‘Twas a beautiful day for metal in Kirkersville.
Promptly on schedule at 4:40 p.m. (original start time had been 4:00 p.m., but with A
Tortured Soul’s last-minute cancellation, grrrrrrr, the decision was made to
push everything back by 40 minutes), opening band Age of Distrust took
the stage, and WOM IV was officially underway. I was attending to my merch booth
responsibilities, so I didn’t see much of their show, but I heard it all. The
band was plagued by technical difficulties almost from the outset,
unfortunately, as PA problems on the stage forced them to stop midset until
corrective measures could be made. From what I heard, though, Age of Distrust
sounded promising, fusing a bit of thrash with a bit of traditional metal and
NWOBHM, and sustaining enough melody to keep it interesting. As usual, I wasn’t
thrilled with the growlier parts when they surfaced. Overall, the band don’t
seem to have refined their sound yet, but they’re off to a good start.
Next up were Indiana-based symphonic metallers Draekon, who were also an
unknown entity to these ears. It’s safe to say that Kamelot is the closest
stylistic reference point for these guys, who brought lush keyboards and
ambitious vocal arrangements to the table. As is often the case with younger,
less experienced bands, they seemed somewhat stiff and nervous on stage, but the
talent is there (particularly in the vocal department) and the songwriting
seemed competent. In a touching gesture of familial solidarity, one band
member’s parents and (it appeared) grandfather were present in lawn chairs,
decked out in Draekon gear and cheering on the band. Anyway, Draekon weren’t
necessarily a highlight of the festival, but they did provide some
much-appreciated diversity in a bill dominated by traditional and thrash acts.
At 6:50 p.m., it was time for one of my most anticipated acts of the weekend,
Wisconsin’s Lords of the Trident. I had never heard of them before WOM
III, but was blown away by their catchy 80s-styled traditional metal, powerhouse
Harry Conklin-styled lead vocals, and over-the-top ludicrous costumes and props.
Although their schtick was a known quantity for me now, I was still eager to
see the band again since I’ve spent some quality time with their new
independently-released album, ‘Chains on Fire,’ which is chock-full of
well-written sturdy trad metal anthems tailor-made for the live arena. When the
band took the stage, I raced over from the merch booth and was crestfallen to
see the members, backs mostly to the audience, wearing street clothes rather
than their trademark goofy costumes (drummer in oversized red-devil mask,
bassist as the Grim Reaper, guitarist as martial arts master, and so on).
Suddenly, the singer whirled around and saw the growing audience. The music
stopped and he cried with an astonished tone of voice, “You’ve multiplied!”
Turns out they were just sound-checking. So the Trident Lords scurried off stage
and returned a few minutes later in full costumed regalia, then proceeded to
perform a rousing set. I didn’t know whether to bang my head or clutch my sides
as I howled with laughter. They’re quite funny, especially singer Ty Christian
(a/k/a Fang Von Killenstein), who sports an endless array of goofy facial
expressions, plastic stage props (swords, axes, video game guitars), placards
with song titles, pirate flags, and so on, as he offers ridiculous stage banter
such as apologizing for his “Dragon-pox” which has left him in slight vocal
distress because of fighting too many dragons. Fang is particularly fond of
lighting stuff on fire (plastic microphone, plastic guitar, chained weapon)
during the guitar solos, and leaping off the 6 or 6.5-foot stage multiple times
to race around in the audience, “slaying” audience members with plastic weaponry
(how comical it was when his plastic axe broke in two upon contacting one
spectator, causing singer and audience alike to laugh uproariously).
Impressively, Fang would then race back to the stage and pull himself up from
the ground back onto the stage (it’s much tougher than it looks, folks, as I
would later have the opportunity to learn for myself). Of course, all of this
gimmickry would be just that (a gimmick) without the songs to back it up. Lords
of the Trident excel in this area too, as they wisely weighted the set heavily
in favor of the very strong, super-catchy, well-crafted material on the ‘Chains
on Fire’ disc, with the title track, “Lords of Hypocrisy,” “Skyforce,” and
“Stranded” being particular highlights. Later that night, I heard several drunk
dudes stumbling around the camp site singing the chorus of “The Metal Sea” at
the top of their lungs, so these songs stick in a big way even on first listen.
In short, Lords of the Trident put on an outstanding performance. Judging by
their brisk merchandise sales, they made a good number of new fans at WOM IV.
They deserved it.
Setlist: Chains on Fire, Rapeshore, Lords of Hypocrisy, The Metal Seas, Skyforce, The
Enforcer, Stranded, The Road, Face the Enemy, Man/Machine.
I missed most of Sacred Dawn’s set. My merch duties beckoned, as did the
ice cold beer cooler I had sitting in my tent. From what little I heard, the
band’s dark proggy modernish metal sounded like it has changed direction
somewhat since the last time I saw them, especially judging by their addition of
a keyboardist and the gothic vocal tones. I did hear their entertaining cover of
Savatage’s classic “Edge of Thorns,” though, and I am curtain that they endeared
themselves to a good number of audience members with that choice. Also, Sacred
Dawn showed themselves to be staunch supporters of the WOM IV fest, as they
spent much of the weekend roaming the grounds and hanging out with the fans,
rather than hightailing it back to the hotel and returning home to Chicago.
Definitely they seemed like good dudes.
By now, it was 9:00 p.m. and darkness was descending on the summer Midwestern sky.
Thunderstorms were threatening, but I didn’t give a damn because the beer was
flowing freely, the music was good, and the music was loud, and I had my wife
and my friends by my side. Then things got even better. Ohio’s Vindicator
electrified the Frontier Ranch by kicking the festival into high gear with a
take-no-prisoners set of blistering old-school thrash metal. Everything about
this band screamed 80s thrash, from the massive stockpile of killer riffage to
the skinny jeans to the none-too-subtle punk influences. As an added bonus,
Vindicator proved to be excellent showmen too, working the stage like seasoned
professionals and rocking out with sheer exuberance. Diminutive singer/guitarist
Vic Stown hunched over the microphone, Hetfield style, and snarled out the
vocals in a manner that recalled Zetro Souza’s tone and Dave Mustaine’s sneer.
(Am I crazy or is this a new development for Vic to sing in Vindicator? I
thought the vocals sounded different, and their CD booklets credit Marshall Law
as the singer. Internet research suggests he’s out of the band and they’ve now
revamped with a couple of new members, apparently only the Stown brothers being
holdovers from ‘The Antique Witcheries’ lineup.) The bassist gets extra credit
for coming off stage and into the crowd to play for one song. And kudos to Vic
for giving a shout-out to his wife Sarah in honor of their fifth wedding
anniversary, and telling the audience that Vindicator would not be here if it
weren’t for her. Awesome. Jen and I worked with Sarah in the merch booth and
found her to be very pleasant, professional and easy to deal with. Good for
them for living the metal dream together. Of course, living the dream comes
with its share of adversity, some of which visited Vindicator on this night as
the power (P.A., stage lights, amps, everything) cut out on them three times
during their set. Unfazed, the band didn’t get disgusted and scream obscenities
at the equipment, the festival owner, the metal gods and everyone else. Instead,
Vindicator simply played on each time, thrashing like maniacs and playing their
guitars at full-on intensity without a pause, even though no one could hear
anything but the drums, until someone flipped the breaker switch and restored
power to the stage (which usually took 20-30 seconds or so). I’ve never seen a
band respond that way to a power outage before. It was one of the coolest
things I’ve ever seen at a concert. The crowd lapped it up. But this audience
belonged to Vindicator from the word “go,” judging by the flailing hair and
enthusiastic cries of the hardcore headbangers upfront, as well as the speed
with which Vindicator shirts and CDs flew out of the merch stall after the gig.
(I scored one myself, a fetching green number with H.P. Lovecraft lines on the
back. Never had a green metal shirt before, and yes, I can indeed rock in
green.) Thumbs up, wayyyyy up.
Setlist: Fearmonger, Beneath the Guillotine, Shock Trauma, Fresh Outta Hell, Strange
Aeons, Humanarchy, Dog Beneath the Skin, New Clear Assault, Trapped Under Ice
(Metallica cover), The Antique Witcheries, Gore Orphanage, Dead in the Water.
North Carolina’s Widow were one of the highlights of WOM III last June, as they
put on an electrifying performance while selflessly surrendering much of their
allotted stage time to help get the festival back on schedule. This year, Datis
& Co. rewarded Widow for their great gig as well as their cooperative spirit
by awarding them the Friday night headliner spot. Looking at the running order,
I knew there was no way in hell Widow would play the full 100 minutes (10:20 –
midnight) that they’d been given, but I also knew their show would be great fun.
I was correct on both counts. What I did not expect, however, was to see the
band hit the stage as a three-piece. Evidently, Widow have struggled to fill the
bass player job with a member who shares their dedication, commitment, and
willingness to drive long distances in their mighty white Ford SUV. So recently
they said “To hell with it,” and singer/guitarist John E. Wooten switched to
bass. It was strange to see him up there plucking the four strings, and I
certainly missed those glorious guitar harmonies (even though I could hear them
in my head and did my damnedest to replicate them on air guitar during their
set), but it worked. To see Wooten and guitarist Chris Bennett (rocking the
white Rainbow tee) up there owning the front of the stage all by themselves just
seemed right, with drummer Peter Lemieux of course holding down the rhythm
section and providing some outstanding backing vocals. To be honest, this was an
awesome headlining show. It felt laid-back, with Bennett cracking jokes in
between songs (“I wrote this next song for Def Leppard,” asking the audience to
buy their merch so “we can go the strip club, errr, I mean, give the money to
charity,” referring to Wooten as “Lemmy” now that he’s playing bass, sheepishly
confessing he’d been drinking some Crown Royal earlier that evening) and the
band seeming relaxed and at ease with their extended set. But at the same time,
it was highly rocking. Tracks like “Beware the Night,” “First Born,” “Angel
Sin,” and “Pleasure of Exorcism” crackled with energy and struck with much
ferocity and power. As a special bonus, Widow offered up four brand-new songs
off their forthcoming ‘Life Blood’ album (to see the light on Germany’s Pure
Steel Records, hopefully in September), including the sizzling “Take Hold of
the Night” (which they had aired at last year’s WOM fest). Widow really fit
this festival like a hand in glove, meshing perfectly with the vibe and the
spirit of the night while kicking righteous ass as well. Chris even gave a
number of attendees (including me, woohoo) a shout-out from the stage, which
was very cool indeed. They wrapped up their 70-minute set by 11:30 or so (see,
I knew they wouldn’t play for a damn hour and a half), then mingled with their
public on the darkened festival grounds for a couple of hours. Jen and I
chatted with them at length, then helped them roadie their gear out of the tiny
backstage area and back into the SUV. Great band, great guys. Widow deserve
your support. Check them out on their ‘Uniting the Powers of Metal’ mini-tour
on the East Coast in August, and definitely, definitely watch for their new
album. I’d wager it’ll be a hammer.
Setlist: American Werewolf in Raleigh, Nightlife, Re-Animate Her, Beware the Night, The
Burning Ones (new song), Night Child, At the End, Take Hold of the Night (new
song), First Born, Angel Sin, Behind the Light (new song), Judgment Day (new
song), Reunion, Pleasure of Exorcism.
Now comes the tricky part of the night. It’s 2:00 a.m. Most of our friends had
departed the Frontier Ranch to stay at their cushy hotel (okay, maybe not so
cushy: the official Fest hotel was a Super 8 more than 10 miles away, located in
a sketchy neighborhood, and we kept hearing reports of bedbugs too). Others had
retired to their tents. So now what? We managed to fight off the bugs in the
bathrooms to brush our teeth (water tasted a bit rusty though), then clambered
into our tent that Datis and Lea had so generously provided and set up for us.
Sleep wasn’t happening, even though the tent was relatively spacious, dry and
bug-free. We’re not camping people. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get
comfortable. So there was lots of tossing and turning and waiting for the
morning. Then Jen got cold, so I tried to arrange our one sleeping bag ($9.88 at
Wal-Mart, yeah man) to keep her warm, and waited for the dawn. I think I finally
nodded off at 5 a.m. or so.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
I was abruptly awakened before 9 a.m. when I heard Datis’s voice outside our tent.
Datis and Lea were our neighbors, so I unzipped the tent door to see what was
happening. There was Datis, already shooting video, asking for my reactions to
Day 1. In a groggy daze, I think I muttered some things about it being “fucking
awesome” and tried to muster as much enthusiasm as my fuzzy head would allow.
Still shooting video, Datis peered inside my tent and commented to Jen (who was
still in the sleeping bag) “You didn’t even change clothes!” Jen took it with
good humor. Then Datis pointed out a truly amazing sight. A short distance away,
the band Vanlade had parked their trailer for the night. One of the band members
(singer Brett Scott, if I’m not mistaken) was sleeping on top of the trailer.
He’d been there all night. It was surreal. As we watched, Brett began stirring,
so Datis went over to talk to him. “How the fuck did I get up here?” I heard him
cry. Evidently he had no memory of last night’s drunken shenanigans, which
apparently concluded with Vanlade guys sleeping in the strangest of places. I
heard that two of them slept on the stage, and one of them slept on top of a
van. Crazy rock’n’rollers …
After a few minutes, Jen and I decided on a plan of attack for the morning: We would
take showers, then have an excursion to the Flying J back at Exit 122 to stock
up on coffee and ice. The showers were pretty sporty. The water was actually
kind of warm, the water pressure was decent (although there’s that rusty smell
again), and there were lovely hooks and benches to place one’s belongings while
showering. Even better, Datis furnished us each with a bar of his handmade soap,
a white one specially formulated for women and a brown one for the men. (He said
that when he gave the soap to Vanlade, one the dudes in the band took a bite out
of it. I’m noticing a recurring theme with those boys, no? Complete nutters.) He
then caught me heading to the shower with the white bar of soap, and tsssked
disapprovingly. I suppose I smelled all flowery and feminine the rest of the
day, but that didn’t stop me from rockin’ like a mo-fo. The only problem with
our showers was that we had moved our dollar-store Styrofoam beer cooler inside
the tent overnight, and it had sweated and leaked all over the interior. We
used one of our two $1.88 Wal-Mart bath towels to clean up the mess, but then
had to try to dry off from the shower with that same soaking wet towel. Oh
well. Did I mention that we’re not campers? A word about the restrooms: They
were rudimentary and basically okay, but it would have been nice if the
Frontier Ranch people had stocked and serviced them. For big stretches of time,
there were neither paper towels nor toilet paper, and the men’s room had gotten
pretty disgusting by midway through the second day. Next year, it’d be great if
someone could service and restock the bathrooms each morning, just from a basic
hygiene standpoint.
Anyway, we drove over to the Flying J truckstop at about 10:30 or 11. It felt really
bizarre to be re-entering the normal world after a full day of immersion in WOM
Fest. Still, it was worth it for the 24-oz. coffee, the bag of ice, and the
visit to comparatively sparkling truck stop restrooms. We drove back to the
Frontier Ranch, once again struggling to dodge the mud pools and pot holes on
the dirt road leading to the grounds, and hung out for a bit in the car,
drinking coffee, watching goats and enjoying silence. Then it was back down the
embankment, picking our way through the mud from last night’s rainfall, and
back over to the merch stand to get things set up for Day 2. As we waited for
the music to resume, the skies darkened and the heavens unleashed a hard,
steady rain on the WOM festival grounds. It rained on and off all afternoon,
which was bad in the sense that things became muddier and muddier, but good in
the sense that it never became uncomfortably warm. Because the stage, merch
booth, and the audience area in front of the stage were all covered, the rain
was little more than a minor inconvenience (as opposed to the show-stopping
catastrophe it would have been at last year’s WOM Fest, when there was no
shelter (“NO SHELTER!” to quote one of my favorite Accept tunes) from the
elements and the plywood stage was protected only by a flimsy blue tarp). Fuck
the rain, the show went on as scheduled …
Because of cancellations, the 12 noon start time was pushed back to 1:30 p.m., when
heavier-than-thou Indiana doomsters Stone Magnum kicked off the musical
portion of the day. Featuring in their ranks guitarist/vocalist Dean Tavernier
(who also plays guitar in traditional speed metallers Skullview), Stone Magnum
represented a nice stylistic change of pace from the other bands on the roster.
And they were an outstanding choice to begin the second day: Nothing too
high-energy or frenetic, just mournful leaden doom crunchers that haunt your
soul as you sip your coffee and contemplate the peaceful rain and muddy
terrain. I didn’t hear much from the Candlemass / Solitude Aeturnus branch of
the doom family tree, nor did they favor the uptempo rockin’ style of Trouble
or Grand Magus. Rather, Stone Magnum specialized in the early Sabbath / Saint
Vitus / Dawn of Winter / Gates of Slumber / Briton Rites type of sound, doling
out the lengthy solemn dirges topped off by Tavernier’s gruff, anguished
vocals, with occasional shifts to faster tempos just to keep the listener on
his toes. The song title “Locksmith of Misery” struck me as particularly clever
too. I came away from their 45-minute set very impressed by Stone Magnum’s
performance and eager to hear more. I picked up one of their demo CDs, then
sadly misplaced it sometime during the day (must’ve been all that damn beer),
so I can’t comment on their recorded output. But I will be eagerly waiting to
hear more from Stone Magnum in the future.
Next on the bill were Fort Wayne, Indiana’s Argonaut. Formed from the ashes of
festival mainstays Zephaniah, three-quarters of Argonaut actually played in
Zephaniah, including the bald, tattooed singer, plus guitar whiz Justin Zych and
bassist Ian Bender (who has strangely switched to drums for Argonaut purposes).
Not altogether sure why the name change was necessary. Musically, Argonaut are
very reminiscent of the post-‘Stories from the Book of Metal’ era of Zephaniah.
I think I recognized the opening song (“Open the Gates”?) from previous
Zephaniah performances, and they closed with a “cover” of Zephaniah’s “Fight for
Love.” Argonaut’s music is speedy, sometimes thrashy, and mostly traditional,
with a few quirky breaks tossed in. Vocals are almost exclusively clean (with a
bit of rasp) now, which is a nice change from the growlies that the guy was
using in Zephaniah. Image-wise, all of the hilarious hijinx from the Zephaniah
days (band members locking arms, playing each other’s guitars, dancing around
the stage, etc.) remain well and truly retired, as none of those antics were
visible. The band’s only image statement seems to be that they all wear white
button-down shirts, and the stickers and guitar picks (?!?) they sold at the
merch stand were likewise white. I guess that’s a bit distinctive. Sadly, they
had no music to sell, but I’ll be interested to hear their recorded output when
the time comes. I didn’t get to see all of Argonaut’s set because I had some
merch duties to attend to (namely, receiving, inventorying and displaying
Aska’s stuff, as their van pulled up in the rain late in Argonaut’s
performance), but I liked what I heard from these guys.
By now, it was 3:30 p.m., the rain had largely stopped, and the Ohio afternoon made
a brief attempt at turning muggy before reverting to its previous cool and
pleasant status. Looking around the festival grounds now, it was great to see so
many musicians from both yesterday’s and today’s lineups just hanging out and
having a good time. Members of Widow, Vindicator, Argonaut, Vanlade, Benedictum,
Shok Paris, Machinage and others were making a day of it, soaking in the metal
glory rather than simply showing up for their gig and taking off. There were no
egos, no B.S., no walls between bands and fans, just a big heavy metal family
enjoying the fact that fate brought us all together in the woods of Ohio on this
Saturday afternoon. While I’m pausing to reflect here, I should point out that
Saturday was exceptional in the sense that every band had an excellent, totally
pro sound. The mix was clear and balanced, and there were no technical gremlins
that disrupted the P.A. today. Kudos to the WOM crew for identifying and
correcting yesterday’s electrical problem to prevent any recurrence today.
Horrifier were up next. This four-piece power/thrash act hailing from the New Jersey area
was the first act of the day to have released a CD, theirs being entitled ‘Grim
Fate,’ released in a limited 700-copy run by Witches Brew Records. I’d purchased
and listened to the album a few weeks earlier and, while I’d enjoyed the peppy,
semi-thrash Iced Earth riffage, the limited vocals had left me feeling like it
could have been better. Be that as it may, I enjoyed the hell out of their
45-minute set. Bare-chested singer/guitarist Joe Potash sounded better live than
in the studio, and when he faltered, I could simply allow myself to get carried
away by the outstanding guitar riffs. I’m pretty sure that Horrifier ended up
playing the entire ‘Grim Fate’ album, plus one or two new songs. Highlights for
me included the opening instrumental “The Ultimatum,” which is a killer way to
start a gig, plus the trad metal anthem “True Metal Never Rusts!” (a curveball
from the power/thrash material dominating the set) which Potash dedicated to
Datis. The faster more neck-snapping fare was also appreciated, especially the
epic “Exordium / From Beyond the Grave.” Good stuff.
Continuing with the day’s “cool-band-name” theme, Saturday’s fourth band were
Deathalizer, a New York trio of Latinos with which I had no previous
familiarity. Although generally fitting under the thrash umbrella, Deathalizer
offered a more contemporary take on the genre than many of the other acts in
attendance. Sometimes the singer sounded like latter-day James Hetfield, and
other times both music and vocals were reminiscent of Machine Head. Deathalizer
definitely brought their New York mannerisms with them too, as one song
concluded with a lusty cry of “Motherfucker!” from the singer. To be honest,
Deathalizer was the one band in today’s lineup during whose performance my
attention wandered. That’s gonna happen in a grueling two day beer-swillin’,
horns-throwin’ weekend, and it’s no reflection on Deathalizer at all. They just
didn’t quite click with me.
Continuing on with the festivities, Kansas City, Kansas veterans Vanlade tore into
their 45-minute set beginning at 5:30 p.m. They were a real standout band at WOM
III, and they had been ubiquitous throughout WOM IV to this point already, going
all-out with their partying from the moment they arrived on the grounds and,
more importantly, being right up near the stage for nearly every other band to
rock out and lend their support. It was a pity that Vanlade could not complete
their debut album in time for WOM IV; instead, they were hawking the same
3-song demo that was available at last year’s festival. The thing is that
Vanlade are an excellent live band, offering straight-up 80s-style U.S. true
metal with thrash/speed leanings. Every song was a killer, especially the demo
tunes (“Wings of Fire,” “Blood Eagle,” and “Live by the Blade”) because those
were the most familiar to me. Singer Brett Scott showed no ill effects of the
previous evening’s alcoholic excesses, though I cringed a bit when he
brandished a sword during “Live by the Blade,” remembering that the man waving
around a deadly weapon had spent last night sleeping on top of a trailer, with
nary a clue as to how he got there. The major changes in the Vanlade camp were
that, unlike last year, they’re now a one-guitar band, plus they were using a
session drummer. Neither change had any visible detrimental effect. Lone axeman
Zakk Coffey picked up the slack, and the second guitarist wasn’t missed at all.
Vanlade sounded great, rocked hard, and had both the songs and stage presence
to deliver an impressive gig. Remember the name Vanlade. If they can ever get
their album released, I fully expect it to be a monster capable of making
significant waves in the true metal underground.
Machinage are a Brazilian thrash metal band who ambitiously decided to plan a U.S. tour
around their WOM IV appearance. Looking at the tour dates printed on the back of
the shirts they were selling, I marveled at their ambition and optimism, as it
looked like they were playing a couple weeks’ worth of dates and traveling long
distances. That’s a huge leap of faith for an unknown international metal band
to take. I do hope it worked out for them. At least their WOM performance was a
success. The audience seemed quite appreciative and the band seemed touched by
the warm response they received. Machinage play a kind of very aggressive take
on the old-school thrash metal genre, with reference points being Germany’s
thrash exports Sodom (especially vocally) and Kreator, plus Brazilian
trailblazers Sepultura circa ‘Beneath the Remains.’ The quartet even went into
tribal mode a time or two, melding what sounded to my novice ears like native
Brazilian beats to their full-on thrash attack. I liked the gesture of them
hanging a Brazilian flag on one side of the stage and a USA flag on the other.
Anyway, Machinage were an enjoyable addition to the bill, even though their set
officially closed out the thrash portion of the festivities.
We now reach the “all-killer, no-filler” part of WOM IV, as Datis had wisely set
three outstanding bands to round out the Saturday schedule. The first of these
was San Diego’s Benedictum, a female-fronted outfit that combines
technical playing and a love of traditional metal with modern sensibilities and
super-heavy edge. Their last couple of albums have clicked with me, big-time,
was I was quite eager to see how Benedictum fared in a live setting. The answer
is that they were fantastic. Singer Veronica Freeman (who actually bears a
striking resemblance to Jen’s favorite aunt who lives in El Paso) possesses an
enormously powerful voice and a commanding stage presence. Jen also noted
(because husbands do notice such things, and if they do, they damn sure know
better than to comment about them to wives) that Veronica was dressed in a
manner that was metal and sexy, without going over the top with skin and
cleavage. Actually, the visual focal point for me was amiable hulking guitarist
Pete Wells, whose camouflage axe looks like it could have been nicked from
Sabaton’s arsenal but who is a highly gifted player. It was a joy to watch him
play. The same is true of bassist and drummer, both of whom were performing at
a quite technical level. And the songs? Well, Benedictum have plenty of
excellent songs from which to choose, and they did a nice job hitting the high
points from all three of their albums (with the exception of “Them” from the
debut – those lyrics are just goofy). My only gripes were that they could have
skipped the drum solo in favor of another song, and in a few places the backing
tapes were distracting. Still, Benedictum were worth the trip to Kirkersville
all by themselves, especially when they played my two fave songs (“Shell Shock”
and “Beast in the Field”) back to back. Much headbanging and rockin’ out ensued.
As an added bonus, Veronica held the microphone out for me to yell out one of
the choruses in “Shell Shock.” Woo hoo. Oh, and the “Mob Rules” cover at the end
of their set was a perfect way to finish things off. Aside from their
performance, Benedictum were a class act throughout the gig, hanging out with
fans and so on, plus they brought probably the coolest array of merch of any
band, including three different t-shirt designs and multiple girlie-shirt
designs (which Jen delighted in showing to female attendees who expressed
interest in Benedictum at the merch area). I definitely, definitely left WOM IV
a bigger fan of Benedictum than I was when I arrived.
Setlist: Dominion, Benedictum, Two Steps to the Sun, Dark Heart, At the Gates, Bare
Bones, Them, Shell Shock, Beast in the Field, The Mob Rules.
The next band was a real treat. Shok Paris are rightfully viewed as legends
of the 1980s Cleveland metal scene, and wrote some of the best U.S. metal of
that time period. Today, singer Vic Hix and guitarist Ken Erb have assembled a
new lineup and are nearly finished with their work on a brand-new Shok Paris
album. Live shows are sporadic with this bunch, unfortunately, so I was ecstatic
when they were added to the WOM Fest roster. The net result was 70 minutes of
absolute headbanging bliss. Maybe all that beer had something to do with it, but
hearing amazing live renditions of songs like “On Your Feet,” “Go for the
Throat,” “Hot on Your Heels,” and “Go Down Fighting” hit me like a ton of
bricks. So I went up to the front of the stage, stood right in front of Erb, and
rocked out. Perhaps my favorite moment of the festival was when two-thirds of
Widow and esteemed BW&BK scribe Mark Gromen joined me and we formed a
quartet of headbanging frenzy. Such was the impact of Shok Paris on this night.
They were the perfect band for this spot in the roster and for my state of mind
as we neared the end of a glorious weekend of heavy metal freedom, far from the
workaday constraints of responsible adulthood and all of that crap. Oh, and for
the record, in addition to dishing out the classics, Shok Paris gave us a solid
preview of their forthcoming ‘Full Metal Jacket’ opus by airing no fewer than 5
songs from it. The new material impressed, especially the high-energy “Hell
Gate” and the catchy “Do or Die.” I couldn’t help but notice that Hix messed up
on a couple of the newer songs by cutting in at the wrong time; in fact, I
could have sworn I saw Erb elbow him in the ribs on one of those occasions, and
Hix seemed to be muttering to himself over at the side of the stage during
another. But these minor mishaps are to be expected when a band is performing
new songs. I don’t think anyone in the audience minded. For my part, I have
nothing but praise for Shok Paris, and gratitude that they drove down to
Kirkersville to put on a killer show for the small, hardy crowd of die-hards in
attendance. I can’t wait to pick up ‘Full Metal Jacket’ when it sees the light
of day later this year.
Setlist: On Your Feet, Concrete Killers, Steel and Starlight, Go for the Throat, Never
Say Why, Caged Tiger, Hot on Your Heels, On War with the World, Chosen Ones,
Take Me Away (new song), Darkened Road (new song), Hell Gate (new song), Full
Metal Jacket (new song), Do or Die (new song), Go Down Fighting, Burn It Down,
Run But Don’t Hide.
The post-Shok Paris euphoria quickly yielded to anxiety, as rumors were swirling
that Aska had not yet arrived on the grounds. They were supposed to go
onstage in 15 minutes. Nahh, I didn’t really worry. I had seen the guys early
that afternoon when they dropped off their merch. I knew there was no way they
would leave hundreds of dollars in merch and skip town. Besides, they have
worked with Datis for three years now, and the idea of them leaving him in the
lurch was preposterous. Sure enough, the Aska van pulled up a few minutes later
and, at 10:40 p.m., the mighty Aska commenced their headlining set. There was a
surprise awaiting all of us. Singer George Call was running around the stage
with no guitar, and there was a fifth dude on stage playing guitar in his
stead. Turns out George learned during his time in Omen to relish being able to
concentrate on singing and being a frontman, without worrying about guitar
duties, so the Texans recruited a Frenchman named Chris to assume second-guitar
responsibilities. This is a very recent development, so it’s to be expected
that Chris hasn’t fully gelled with the band yet, at least visually (the
Accept-style synchronized headbanging that characterized previous Aska shows
was largely absent tonight). But he played great, and he freed George up to be
a ball of energy careening about the stage. I’ve known George Call for 15
years, and I swear the man is a natural born rockstar (the red star on his
chest in tonight’s wardrobe just drives home the point). He was obviously
having a blast being untethered to his guitar, and I honestly think his voice
sounded stronger than I’ve ever heard it before. And the rest of the band?
Fantastic, as always. Danny White is an excellent traditional metal drummer,
and it was tons of fun to watch bassist Keith Knight and guitarist Daryl
Norton, both of whom are total pros and fine players to boot.
This wasn’t the consummate Aska live performance, nor was it intended to be. Because
the late start, they only had about 75 minutes before the Frontier Ranch curfew
would require the power to be cut off. So there was no chance of an
every-Aska-song-you-ever-wanted-to-hear set like the one they played at the
Pathfinder Metal Fest in 2009. And while everyone is eager to hear new Aska
songs, and the new record is basically done, the band didn’t perform any of
those songs. Instead, they offered up 9 of the greatest Aska songs of all time,
stringing together one awesome classic after another, punctuated with a pair of
classic metal covers, in the form of Maiden’s “The Trooper” and Priest’s
“You’ve Got Another Thing Coming.” More importantly, Aska’s show perfectly
suited the family vibe and feel of the evening, with George’s banter being
funnier than usual (i.e., saying that “we’re all 70 years old but we still
rock,” urging the crowd to be so loud that the “rappers in the next field over”
could hear us, insisting that Aska were a band of brothers and would never
replace anyone before admitting that they’ve replaced plenty of people over the
years, but not this time). Songs like “Longships,” “Invasion,” and “Crown of
Thorns” are by now thoroughly imprinted in my DNA, so hearing those tunes was
like saying hello to an old friend. At one point, George put the mike in front
of me so I could belt out a chorus of “Blood! Fire! And the dead will ride the
wings / Of the Valkyries!” then said “Come on, let’s give it up for Kit Ekman.”
Well, let’s just say that I was a mighty happy camper at that moment (even if my
performance prompted Gromen to comment later, “Your voice sucks,” which is
undoubtedly true).
Then it got even better. For the Priest cover, the plan was to have Machinage’s
guitarist (who was celebrating a birthday) and our friend Larry (a bass player
from Detroit whom Jen and I had befriended when he and his wife came to WOM III)
come on stage to jam with Aska. Then Daryl’s guitar broke a string, and with the
clock ticking rapidly toward the midnight curfew, there was no time to fix it.
So Larry grabbed his bass and went on stage as scheduled, the Machinage guy
stood up there and smiled while everyone wished him a happy birthday, Keith from
Aska picked up a microphone, and Aska launched into “You’ve Got Another Thing
Coming,” with Keith and George sharing the vocals. Or so I thought. Next thing
I knew, George said, “Kit, come on up here.” So I handed Jen the camera and
tried to vault myself onto the stage like the Lords of the Trident guy had done
yesterday. Did I mention that the stage was more than 6 feet off the ground?
Did I mention that I had been drinking beer all day? Did I mention that I’m a
total weakling? I tried and tried, but there was no way in hell I was ever
going to get up there, until one of the burly WOM crew members took pity on me
and gave me a boost from behind to vault me up onto the stage. Whew. Now, wait,
holy crap, I’m on stage with Aska! Woo hoo. Now what do I do? I looked back at
Danny and waved. I sang a little bit with Keith and George. I put my arm on
Larry’s shoulder and we rocked. In the meantime, the stage was filling with
other people too. George was calling up sponsors, friends, everyone to join the
band on stage as the Priest song kept thundering along. He tried to get Datis
up there, but Datis was far too engrossed in his video camera. So the last song
of WOM IV was a total celebration of heavy metal, of our heavy metal family,
and of a killer festival weekend. That, my friends, is the way to put an
exclamation point on a festival. Great times.
Setlist: Angels of War, Leather, Invasion, Legion, Killashandra, The Stalker, The
Trooper, Longships, Valkyries, Crown of Thorns, You’ve Got Another Thing Coming.
The live music portion of WOM IV have concluded with the tolling of the witching
hour, but the after-show party went on for hours. The Aska guys hung around
until after 3:00 a.m. talking and laughing with fans, friends (including
George’s high school friend Larry, who doesn’t really listen to metal but who
came out to support his buddy at WOM for two years in a row and even camped out
with us tonight), other band members and so on. At one point, Keith was telling
Jen and me a story when Jen simply closed her eyes and fell asleep. Keith seemed
taken aback by this at first, not realizing Jen’s remarkable power to fall
asleep at any time and in any circumstances. This ability was compounded after a
night of little sleep in the tent, no doubt. Did I mention we’re not campers?
Eventually, a group of us piled into the Aska van for a listening session of
around five songs from the new Aska album. It was amazing to hear these songs
for the first time with George and Danny pointing out little details and
telling stories about the songs as we went along. George was even singing along
with his recorded self. And the songs … oh, man, it sounds to me like Aska are
sitting on an incredible record that will cement their legacy as one of the
greatest American metal bands of the last 20 years. Here’s hoping it comes to
fruition soon. Let’s see, then there was an episode of complete hilarity when
Datis was trying to get his photo taken with Aska in complete darkness (all of
the lights on the festival ground having been killed for the night), which his
camera didn’t like. So we all made way for the food vendor’s booth, which still
had a light on, so as to accommodate Datis’s photo. We entered the food booth,
and found beer everywhere. There were cases of beer stacked up, and dozens of
cans of beer sitting, nicely chilled, in an inflatable swimming pool with cold
water. Party on, Wayne! Needless to say, it took all of a few seconds for Aska
and friends (including Jen and me) to break into the beer stash. After some
more beer, there was a happy birthday singing for Lea, and a happy anniversary
singing for Jen and me. Then the drummer from Vanlade walked in, totally
wasted. He came up to me and said, “Dude, you have short hair, but you sure can
headbang.” Hahaha. He somehow got into a beer chugging contest with one of the
other Aska fans, although he was so drunk it couldn’t possibly have been a good
idea. We egged him on, chanting, “chug chug chug” like some heavy metal frat
party gone terribly awry. The Vanlade dude decided he needed a sharp implement
to facilitate his chugging, so George found him a pair of scissors, which the
dude then proceeded to try to stab into his beer can, nearly stabbing himself
in the process. Datis, sensing an imminent trip to the emergency room if he
didn’t take control of the situation, said, “That’s it. Everyone needs to
leave.” And just like that, the party broke up at 3 or 3:30 a.m. Boy was it fun
though. We said our goodbyes and stumbled back to our tent in the inky
blackness. So exhausted were we that, despite the uncomfortable conditions, we
were fast asleep before our heads hit the partially-inflated air mattress. Ah, rest …
Sunday, June 19, 2011
“And the rockets red glare / The bombs bursting in air ….” By way of a postscript, we
didn’t sleep for long. At around 7 a.m., I awakened to the sound of firecrackers
/ bottle rockets / explosive devices being detonated right near our tent. It
happened over and over again, until finally Lea yelled for whoever was setting
off the fireworks to knock it off because they’re not allowed at Frontier Ranch.
And, oh yeah, it was 7 a.m. We tried to rest some more, then eventually decided
it was time to get up and take a shower. Only problem there was that I had left
the $1.88 Wal-Mart towels hanging on a nearby tree branch to dry the previous
morning. That would have been a fine idea except that it rained like hell on
Saturday. Suffice it to say the towels were not even slightly dry. Did I
mention we’re not campers? Nonetheless Jen tried to put a cheerful spin on the
dilemma, insisting that even though the towels were sopping wet, they “still had
drying properties.” That’s my glass-half-full girl. With that, we took showers
and tried to ignore the damp funky smell of our towels. I used my brown soap
this morning. When I informed Datis of that fact, he asked me if I felt like a
Highlander. Hmmm, yeah, now that he mentions it, I suppose I did. Fantastic
soap, Datis! For the next couple of hours, we engaged in Fest post-mortems with
Datis, Lea and George’s friend Larry, still wearing last night’s Hawaiian
shirt, on a nearly deserted campsite. Hell, even the goats were gone, as were
those crazy dudes from Vanlade. Sadly, we had a plane to catch, so we said our
goodbyes, packed up our meager belongings from the tent, left those soaking
wet, funky-smelling $1.88 Wal-Mart towels hanging in those same damn tree
branches to dry, and hit the road.
Overall, we had a great time at WOM IV. The Fest has improved drastically from its 2010
incarnation, and promises to be even better next year as Datis, Lea and Ryan
pursue their dream of a Euro style open air festival in America. They’re already
close. They’ve got the venue. They’ve got the caliber of musical talent (albeit
perhaps not the name recognition). They’ve got the professional sound and stage
management that kept things sounding good and running on time all weekend long.
Now they just need attendees, people willing to plunk down some dollars, spend a
weekend in Ohio, and support true heavy metal. Who’s in?
Special thanks go to everyone who made our weekend so enjoyable: Datis for the good
cheer and excellent roster, Lea for bearing with me no matter how many times I
abandoned my merch booth duties to go see a band, Goose Island Brewery for
making an extremely tasty brew that you cannot find in Alabama, Aska and Widow
for being such good dudes and good friends, Shok Paris for one of the best shows
I’ve ever seen by a “legacy” band from the 1980s, Mark Gromen for finding humor
in every situation, George’s friend Larry for being more metal than any of us,
Vanlade for being insane, Larry the bassist from Detroit and his wife for being
such cool and genuine people, and on and on and on. See you next year, Ohio.
Let’s hear it for WOM V: The Revenge of the Goats!
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~
Frontier Ranch, Kirkersville, Ohio
June 17-18, 2011
The 2010 installment of the Warriors of Metal Fest exposed a fledgling festival that
had a laudable mission statement (i.e., bringing a Euro-style open-air
true metal festival to the USA), but struggled in many respects with the
execution. After that frustrating experience, I and many others were vocal in
pointing out the problem areas. To their credit, fest organizers Datis and Lea
Alaee and Ryan Carroll took those somewhat painful critiques to heart, offering
a vastly improved product for the 2011 version of WOM Fest. From the new venue
(more about that a minute) to the strictly on-time operation to the flawless set
changes to the largely excellent sound system / soundman, the Festival took a
great stride forward in 2011. The fest organizers are to be praised for
bringing their “A” game and putting on a high-quality, professional festival
experience featuring a highlight-studded roster, a relaxed atmosphere, and a
picturesque outdoor environment, all at an extremely fan-friendly price.
Only two global problems (neither of which were fully within the organizers’ control)
put a damper on the proceedings. First, the frequency of last-minute
cancellations by confirmed acts – many of whom were highly anticipated by the
audience (i.e., yours truly) – was disappointing. By my count, no fewer
than six bands dropped off the roster in the weeks, days, and even hours leading
up to the fest, including Dantesco, A Tortured Soul, Spellcaster, Aura Azul,
Split Heaven, and Grimstone. Some of these bands had valid reasons for
canceling. Others, quite frankly, did not. While I’m not here to call anybody
out, it speaks poorly of a band to make a commitment to perform, then bail out
at the last second because of a lame excuse (or no excuse at all), leaving the
organizers holding the bag and letting your fans down. Nonetheless, there were
15 bands who did uphold their end of the bargain and appear at WOM IV, so I
choose to focus my energies on that positive rather than the negative of the 6
who bailed.
The other bummer of the weekend was attendance. Even as the organizers improved the
Warriors of Metal experience by leaps and bounds, the audience shrank. There
were undoubtedly fewer folks present at this year’s installment than at last
year’s. During most performances, it certainly appeared that the audience
consisted of more band members and festival staff than paying customers. That’s
not a sustainable business model. Certainly, lack of promotion is part of the
problem. But only part. Do you want a festival that caters to “our” kind of
heavy metal on our shores? Then you have to support it. And I don’t mean by
paying lip service to it either. I mean getting in the car, hopping on an
airplane, making it a priority, treating it like something important even if it
doesn’t have the marquee names, the chic word-of-mouth buzz, or whatever. I know
the economy sucks, money is tight, blah blah blah, but look: America is littered
with the bleached bones of defunct underground metal festivals. I’d hate to see
an event with as much promise as WOM Fest join that graveyard because U.S. metal
fans were too damned apathetic to bother showing up. Okay, enough with the
soapbox. With that prelude in place, it’s on to a standard, Ekman-style
narrative of how those two glorious metal-and-beer soaked days unfolded in the
forests of Ohio.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Jen and I awakened in a mighty comfortable guest bedroom at my sister’s house in
suburban Indiana. (We’d flown up from Alabama the day before to spend some time
with my sister, brother-in-law, and ass-kicking nephews aged 2 and 8 months.) By
10:00 a.m., we hopped in the rental car (a spiffy Ford Focus that got 37 mpg on
Interstate 70) and headed to Super Wal-Mart and the dollar store to stock up on
supplies: survival rations (bread, peanut butter, poptarts, bananas), beer (who
knew you could buy Goose Island beer in an Indiana Wal-Mart?), more beer,
plastic cups, a case of water, sunscreen, a sleeping bag (only $9.88 at
Wal-Mart), and a couple of $1.88 bath towels. Then it was back in the car for
the 200-mile trek to the Festival site. Unlike last year, when WOM Fest had been
held in the parking lot of the Ross County Fairgrounds in Chillicothe, OH (about
an hour south of Columbus), this year the venue was the Frontier Ranch, located
near Kirkersville, OH (about 30 minutes east of Columbus).
At 2:15, we pulled off Interstate 70 at Exit 122 in a rural area east of Columbus.
A couple of turns later, we saw the fading wooden sign for the Frontier Ranch,
complete with dilapidated rotting farmhouse (which appeared to be occupied,
believe it or not). We turned off the main road onto a muddy, pothole-strewn
makeshift dirt road that wound around in the woods for half a mile or so before
coming to a stop in a grassy field that was the WOM Fest parking lot. Ours was
the fifth or sixth car to pull into that lot. Upon exiting the now-mud spattered
rental car, we peered over the edge of the parking lot, down into the valley
that would be U.S. Metal HQ for the next 48 hours. The steep incline down the
embankment could best be navigated through a series of wooden slats that formed
a makeshift stairway. At the bottom of the hill, we could see a large covered
stage, including an area in front of the stage with a tin roof to protect
audience members from the elements. Large quantities of straw were strewn about
the area immediately in front of the stage. Evidently it had been raining quite
a bit in Kirkersville, so the straw was a mud control mechanism. A few other
simple wooden structures were also visible, including a small merch booth, a
food/drink booth, and a pair of long low buildings off to the far side of the
field. Those buildings housed rudimentary restrooms and shower facilities.
Directly in front of the stage, a huge deserted grassy field stretched out
almost as far as the eye could see. This would be the campsite. I must confess:
The Frontier Ranch didn’t immediately throw off positive vibes. The facility
had clearly seen better days, judging by the amount of rust, rot and benign
neglect that was readily visible throughout the area. Nonetheless, the stage was
large and protected from the elements, there was running water and electricity,
and it was all ours for the weekend. Ultimately, this site is a virtually ideal
location for a small outdoor metal festival, and I grew quite fond of that
Frontier Ranch by the end of the weekend.
Did I mention the goats? Yeah, there were goats at Frontier Ranch. In the festival
area. A whole family of them, including a fat brown ram, a white skinny
Beelzebub-looking one, and a number of smaller black ones. Amazingly, they
remained in the festival area for much of the daylight hours, placidly grazing
as pulverizing molten heavy metal music blared out of the PA system. The only
time I ever saw the farm people was when one of them came down to collect such
goats before dark. It sure was fun watching her struggle to pull the ram up the
steep embankment by its leash. Then again, I’m easily amused.
By 3:00 p.m., Jen and I had loaded in our gear and groceries, hauling them from the
car, down the embankment, across the festival grounds and to our tent on the
edge of the wooded area. We had not brought a tent from Alabama, but Lea Alaee
was kind enough to provide one for us in the staff area, in a great location
flanked on one side by Datis and Lea’s tent, and approximately 20 yards from the
bathrooms and shower facilities. Then we got to work setting up the merch booth.
We swept sawdust and spider webs from every surface. We threaded ropes through
the booth’s rafters for purposes of hanging tee shirts. We organized two huge
boxes of high-quality WOM Fest t-shirts and began collecting merch from each
band as they arrived on site, counting and inventorying the items, confirming
prices, and getting everything logged in. A nice innovation for us from a merch
booth standpoint was that Lea had obtained a programmable cash register to help
us keep track of cash transactions and band merch sales, yet another excellent
upgrade for WOM IV. This was all thirsty work, by the way, as it was a warm
afternoon with temperatures probably hovering around the mid-80s. Fortunately,
things cooled quickly, and by the evening hours we were comfortably in the low
70s or high 60s with a pleasant breeze. ‘Twas a beautiful day for metal in Kirkersville.
Promptly on schedule at 4:40 p.m. (original start time had been 4:00 p.m., but with A
Tortured Soul’s last-minute cancellation, grrrrrrr, the decision was made to
push everything back by 40 minutes), opening band Age of Distrust took
the stage, and WOM IV was officially underway. I was attending to my merch booth
responsibilities, so I didn’t see much of their show, but I heard it all. The
band was plagued by technical difficulties almost from the outset,
unfortunately, as PA problems on the stage forced them to stop midset until
corrective measures could be made. From what I heard, though, Age of Distrust
sounded promising, fusing a bit of thrash with a bit of traditional metal and
NWOBHM, and sustaining enough melody to keep it interesting. As usual, I wasn’t
thrilled with the growlier parts when they surfaced. Overall, the band don’t
seem to have refined their sound yet, but they’re off to a good start.
Next up were Indiana-based symphonic metallers Draekon, who were also an
unknown entity to these ears. It’s safe to say that Kamelot is the closest
stylistic reference point for these guys, who brought lush keyboards and
ambitious vocal arrangements to the table. As is often the case with younger,
less experienced bands, they seemed somewhat stiff and nervous on stage, but the
talent is there (particularly in the vocal department) and the songwriting
seemed competent. In a touching gesture of familial solidarity, one band
member’s parents and (it appeared) grandfather were present in lawn chairs,
decked out in Draekon gear and cheering on the band. Anyway, Draekon weren’t
necessarily a highlight of the festival, but they did provide some
much-appreciated diversity in a bill dominated by traditional and thrash acts.
At 6:50 p.m., it was time for one of my most anticipated acts of the weekend,
Wisconsin’s Lords of the Trident. I had never heard of them before WOM
III, but was blown away by their catchy 80s-styled traditional metal, powerhouse
Harry Conklin-styled lead vocals, and over-the-top ludicrous costumes and props.
Although their schtick was a known quantity for me now, I was still eager to
see the band again since I’ve spent some quality time with their new
independently-released album, ‘Chains on Fire,’ which is chock-full of
well-written sturdy trad metal anthems tailor-made for the live arena. When the
band took the stage, I raced over from the merch booth and was crestfallen to
see the members, backs mostly to the audience, wearing street clothes rather
than their trademark goofy costumes (drummer in oversized red-devil mask,
bassist as the Grim Reaper, guitarist as martial arts master, and so on).
Suddenly, the singer whirled around and saw the growing audience. The music
stopped and he cried with an astonished tone of voice, “You’ve multiplied!”
Turns out they were just sound-checking. So the Trident Lords scurried off stage
and returned a few minutes later in full costumed regalia, then proceeded to
perform a rousing set. I didn’t know whether to bang my head or clutch my sides
as I howled with laughter. They’re quite funny, especially singer Ty Christian
(a/k/a Fang Von Killenstein), who sports an endless array of goofy facial
expressions, plastic stage props (swords, axes, video game guitars), placards
with song titles, pirate flags, and so on, as he offers ridiculous stage banter
such as apologizing for his “Dragon-pox” which has left him in slight vocal
distress because of fighting too many dragons. Fang is particularly fond of
lighting stuff on fire (plastic microphone, plastic guitar, chained weapon)
during the guitar solos, and leaping off the 6 or 6.5-foot stage multiple times
to race around in the audience, “slaying” audience members with plastic weaponry
(how comical it was when his plastic axe broke in two upon contacting one
spectator, causing singer and audience alike to laugh uproariously).
Impressively, Fang would then race back to the stage and pull himself up from
the ground back onto the stage (it’s much tougher than it looks, folks, as I
would later have the opportunity to learn for myself). Of course, all of this
gimmickry would be just that (a gimmick) without the songs to back it up. Lords
of the Trident excel in this area too, as they wisely weighted the set heavily
in favor of the very strong, super-catchy, well-crafted material on the ‘Chains
on Fire’ disc, with the title track, “Lords of Hypocrisy,” “Skyforce,” and
“Stranded” being particular highlights. Later that night, I heard several drunk
dudes stumbling around the camp site singing the chorus of “The Metal Sea” at
the top of their lungs, so these songs stick in a big way even on first listen.
In short, Lords of the Trident put on an outstanding performance. Judging by
their brisk merchandise sales, they made a good number of new fans at WOM IV.
They deserved it.
Setlist: Chains on Fire, Rapeshore, Lords of Hypocrisy, The Metal Seas, Skyforce, The
Enforcer, Stranded, The Road, Face the Enemy, Man/Machine.
I missed most of Sacred Dawn’s set. My merch duties beckoned, as did the
ice cold beer cooler I had sitting in my tent. From what little I heard, the
band’s dark proggy modernish metal sounded like it has changed direction
somewhat since the last time I saw them, especially judging by their addition of
a keyboardist and the gothic vocal tones. I did hear their entertaining cover of
Savatage’s classic “Edge of Thorns,” though, and I am curtain that they endeared
themselves to a good number of audience members with that choice. Also, Sacred
Dawn showed themselves to be staunch supporters of the WOM IV fest, as they
spent much of the weekend roaming the grounds and hanging out with the fans,
rather than hightailing it back to the hotel and returning home to Chicago.
Definitely they seemed like good dudes.
By now, it was 9:00 p.m. and darkness was descending on the summer Midwestern sky.
Thunderstorms were threatening, but I didn’t give a damn because the beer was
flowing freely, the music was good, and the music was loud, and I had my wife
and my friends by my side. Then things got even better. Ohio’s Vindicator
electrified the Frontier Ranch by kicking the festival into high gear with a
take-no-prisoners set of blistering old-school thrash metal. Everything about
this band screamed 80s thrash, from the massive stockpile of killer riffage to
the skinny jeans to the none-too-subtle punk influences. As an added bonus,
Vindicator proved to be excellent showmen too, working the stage like seasoned
professionals and rocking out with sheer exuberance. Diminutive singer/guitarist
Vic Stown hunched over the microphone, Hetfield style, and snarled out the
vocals in a manner that recalled Zetro Souza’s tone and Dave Mustaine’s sneer.
(Am I crazy or is this a new development for Vic to sing in Vindicator? I
thought the vocals sounded different, and their CD booklets credit Marshall Law
as the singer. Internet research suggests he’s out of the band and they’ve now
revamped with a couple of new members, apparently only the Stown brothers being
holdovers from ‘The Antique Witcheries’ lineup.) The bassist gets extra credit
for coming off stage and into the crowd to play for one song. And kudos to Vic
for giving a shout-out to his wife Sarah in honor of their fifth wedding
anniversary, and telling the audience that Vindicator would not be here if it
weren’t for her. Awesome. Jen and I worked with Sarah in the merch booth and
found her to be very pleasant, professional and easy to deal with. Good for
them for living the metal dream together. Of course, living the dream comes
with its share of adversity, some of which visited Vindicator on this night as
the power (P.A., stage lights, amps, everything) cut out on them three times
during their set. Unfazed, the band didn’t get disgusted and scream obscenities
at the equipment, the festival owner, the metal gods and everyone else. Instead,
Vindicator simply played on each time, thrashing like maniacs and playing their
guitars at full-on intensity without a pause, even though no one could hear
anything but the drums, until someone flipped the breaker switch and restored
power to the stage (which usually took 20-30 seconds or so). I’ve never seen a
band respond that way to a power outage before. It was one of the coolest
things I’ve ever seen at a concert. The crowd lapped it up. But this audience
belonged to Vindicator from the word “go,” judging by the flailing hair and
enthusiastic cries of the hardcore headbangers upfront, as well as the speed
with which Vindicator shirts and CDs flew out of the merch stall after the gig.
(I scored one myself, a fetching green number with H.P. Lovecraft lines on the
back. Never had a green metal shirt before, and yes, I can indeed rock in
green.) Thumbs up, wayyyyy up.
Setlist: Fearmonger, Beneath the Guillotine, Shock Trauma, Fresh Outta Hell, Strange
Aeons, Humanarchy, Dog Beneath the Skin, New Clear Assault, Trapped Under Ice
(Metallica cover), The Antique Witcheries, Gore Orphanage, Dead in the Water.
North Carolina’s Widow were one of the highlights of WOM III last June, as they
put on an electrifying performance while selflessly surrendering much of their
allotted stage time to help get the festival back on schedule. This year, Datis
& Co. rewarded Widow for their great gig as well as their cooperative spirit
by awarding them the Friday night headliner spot. Looking at the running order,
I knew there was no way in hell Widow would play the full 100 minutes (10:20 –
midnight) that they’d been given, but I also knew their show would be great fun.
I was correct on both counts. What I did not expect, however, was to see the
band hit the stage as a three-piece. Evidently, Widow have struggled to fill the
bass player job with a member who shares their dedication, commitment, and
willingness to drive long distances in their mighty white Ford SUV. So recently
they said “To hell with it,” and singer/guitarist John E. Wooten switched to
bass. It was strange to see him up there plucking the four strings, and I
certainly missed those glorious guitar harmonies (even though I could hear them
in my head and did my damnedest to replicate them on air guitar during their
set), but it worked. To see Wooten and guitarist Chris Bennett (rocking the
white Rainbow tee) up there owning the front of the stage all by themselves just
seemed right, with drummer Peter Lemieux of course holding down the rhythm
section and providing some outstanding backing vocals. To be honest, this was an
awesome headlining show. It felt laid-back, with Bennett cracking jokes in
between songs (“I wrote this next song for Def Leppard,” asking the audience to
buy their merch so “we can go the strip club, errr, I mean, give the money to
charity,” referring to Wooten as “Lemmy” now that he’s playing bass, sheepishly
confessing he’d been drinking some Crown Royal earlier that evening) and the
band seeming relaxed and at ease with their extended set. But at the same time,
it was highly rocking. Tracks like “Beware the Night,” “First Born,” “Angel
Sin,” and “Pleasure of Exorcism” crackled with energy and struck with much
ferocity and power. As a special bonus, Widow offered up four brand-new songs
off their forthcoming ‘Life Blood’ album (to see the light on Germany’s Pure
Steel Records, hopefully in September), including the sizzling “Take Hold of
the Night” (which they had aired at last year’s WOM fest). Widow really fit
this festival like a hand in glove, meshing perfectly with the vibe and the
spirit of the night while kicking righteous ass as well. Chris even gave a
number of attendees (including me, woohoo) a shout-out from the stage, which
was very cool indeed. They wrapped up their 70-minute set by 11:30 or so (see,
I knew they wouldn’t play for a damn hour and a half), then mingled with their
public on the darkened festival grounds for a couple of hours. Jen and I
chatted with them at length, then helped them roadie their gear out of the tiny
backstage area and back into the SUV. Great band, great guys. Widow deserve
your support. Check them out on their ‘Uniting the Powers of Metal’ mini-tour
on the East Coast in August, and definitely, definitely watch for their new
album. I’d wager it’ll be a hammer.
Setlist: American Werewolf in Raleigh, Nightlife, Re-Animate Her, Beware the Night, The
Burning Ones (new song), Night Child, At the End, Take Hold of the Night (new
song), First Born, Angel Sin, Behind the Light (new song), Judgment Day (new
song), Reunion, Pleasure of Exorcism.
Now comes the tricky part of the night. It’s 2:00 a.m. Most of our friends had
departed the Frontier Ranch to stay at their cushy hotel (okay, maybe not so
cushy: the official Fest hotel was a Super 8 more than 10 miles away, located in
a sketchy neighborhood, and we kept hearing reports of bedbugs too). Others had
retired to their tents. So now what? We managed to fight off the bugs in the
bathrooms to brush our teeth (water tasted a bit rusty though), then clambered
into our tent that Datis and Lea had so generously provided and set up for us.
Sleep wasn’t happening, even though the tent was relatively spacious, dry and
bug-free. We’re not camping people. Try as I might, I just couldn’t get
comfortable. So there was lots of tossing and turning and waiting for the
morning. Then Jen got cold, so I tried to arrange our one sleeping bag ($9.88 at
Wal-Mart, yeah man) to keep her warm, and waited for the dawn. I think I finally
nodded off at 5 a.m. or so.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
I was abruptly awakened before 9 a.m. when I heard Datis’s voice outside our tent.
Datis and Lea were our neighbors, so I unzipped the tent door to see what was
happening. There was Datis, already shooting video, asking for my reactions to
Day 1. In a groggy daze, I think I muttered some things about it being “fucking
awesome” and tried to muster as much enthusiasm as my fuzzy head would allow.
Still shooting video, Datis peered inside my tent and commented to Jen (who was
still in the sleeping bag) “You didn’t even change clothes!” Jen took it with
good humor. Then Datis pointed out a truly amazing sight. A short distance away,
the band Vanlade had parked their trailer for the night. One of the band members
(singer Brett Scott, if I’m not mistaken) was sleeping on top of the trailer.
He’d been there all night. It was surreal. As we watched, Brett began stirring,
so Datis went over to talk to him. “How the fuck did I get up here?” I heard him
cry. Evidently he had no memory of last night’s drunken shenanigans, which
apparently concluded with Vanlade guys sleeping in the strangest of places. I
heard that two of them slept on the stage, and one of them slept on top of a
van. Crazy rock’n’rollers …
After a few minutes, Jen and I decided on a plan of attack for the morning: We would
take showers, then have an excursion to the Flying J back at Exit 122 to stock
up on coffee and ice. The showers were pretty sporty. The water was actually
kind of warm, the water pressure was decent (although there’s that rusty smell
again), and there were lovely hooks and benches to place one’s belongings while
showering. Even better, Datis furnished us each with a bar of his handmade soap,
a white one specially formulated for women and a brown one for the men. (He said
that when he gave the soap to Vanlade, one the dudes in the band took a bite out
of it. I’m noticing a recurring theme with those boys, no? Complete nutters.) He
then caught me heading to the shower with the white bar of soap, and tsssked
disapprovingly. I suppose I smelled all flowery and feminine the rest of the
day, but that didn’t stop me from rockin’ like a mo-fo. The only problem with
our showers was that we had moved our dollar-store Styrofoam beer cooler inside
the tent overnight, and it had sweated and leaked all over the interior. We
used one of our two $1.88 Wal-Mart bath towels to clean up the mess, but then
had to try to dry off from the shower with that same soaking wet towel. Oh
well. Did I mention that we’re not campers? A word about the restrooms: They
were rudimentary and basically okay, but it would have been nice if the
Frontier Ranch people had stocked and serviced them. For big stretches of time,
there were neither paper towels nor toilet paper, and the men’s room had gotten
pretty disgusting by midway through the second day. Next year, it’d be great if
someone could service and restock the bathrooms each morning, just from a basic
hygiene standpoint.
Anyway, we drove over to the Flying J truckstop at about 10:30 or 11. It felt really
bizarre to be re-entering the normal world after a full day of immersion in WOM
Fest. Still, it was worth it for the 24-oz. coffee, the bag of ice, and the
visit to comparatively sparkling truck stop restrooms. We drove back to the
Frontier Ranch, once again struggling to dodge the mud pools and pot holes on
the dirt road leading to the grounds, and hung out for a bit in the car,
drinking coffee, watching goats and enjoying silence. Then it was back down the
embankment, picking our way through the mud from last night’s rainfall, and
back over to the merch stand to get things set up for Day 2. As we waited for
the music to resume, the skies darkened and the heavens unleashed a hard,
steady rain on the WOM festival grounds. It rained on and off all afternoon,
which was bad in the sense that things became muddier and muddier, but good in
the sense that it never became uncomfortably warm. Because the stage, merch
booth, and the audience area in front of the stage were all covered, the rain
was little more than a minor inconvenience (as opposed to the show-stopping
catastrophe it would have been at last year’s WOM Fest, when there was no
shelter (“NO SHELTER!” to quote one of my favorite Accept tunes) from the
elements and the plywood stage was protected only by a flimsy blue tarp). Fuck
the rain, the show went on as scheduled …
Because of cancellations, the 12 noon start time was pushed back to 1:30 p.m., when
heavier-than-thou Indiana doomsters Stone Magnum kicked off the musical
portion of the day. Featuring in their ranks guitarist/vocalist Dean Tavernier
(who also plays guitar in traditional speed metallers Skullview), Stone Magnum
represented a nice stylistic change of pace from the other bands on the roster.
And they were an outstanding choice to begin the second day: Nothing too
high-energy or frenetic, just mournful leaden doom crunchers that haunt your
soul as you sip your coffee and contemplate the peaceful rain and muddy
terrain. I didn’t hear much from the Candlemass / Solitude Aeturnus branch of
the doom family tree, nor did they favor the uptempo rockin’ style of Trouble
or Grand Magus. Rather, Stone Magnum specialized in the early Sabbath / Saint
Vitus / Dawn of Winter / Gates of Slumber / Briton Rites type of sound, doling
out the lengthy solemn dirges topped off by Tavernier’s gruff, anguished
vocals, with occasional shifts to faster tempos just to keep the listener on
his toes. The song title “Locksmith of Misery” struck me as particularly clever
too. I came away from their 45-minute set very impressed by Stone Magnum’s
performance and eager to hear more. I picked up one of their demo CDs, then
sadly misplaced it sometime during the day (must’ve been all that damn beer),
so I can’t comment on their recorded output. But I will be eagerly waiting to
hear more from Stone Magnum in the future.
Next on the bill were Fort Wayne, Indiana’s Argonaut. Formed from the ashes of
festival mainstays Zephaniah, three-quarters of Argonaut actually played in
Zephaniah, including the bald, tattooed singer, plus guitar whiz Justin Zych and
bassist Ian Bender (who has strangely switched to drums for Argonaut purposes).
Not altogether sure why the name change was necessary. Musically, Argonaut are
very reminiscent of the post-‘Stories from the Book of Metal’ era of Zephaniah.
I think I recognized the opening song (“Open the Gates”?) from previous
Zephaniah performances, and they closed with a “cover” of Zephaniah’s “Fight for
Love.” Argonaut’s music is speedy, sometimes thrashy, and mostly traditional,
with a few quirky breaks tossed in. Vocals are almost exclusively clean (with a
bit of rasp) now, which is a nice change from the growlies that the guy was
using in Zephaniah. Image-wise, all of the hilarious hijinx from the Zephaniah
days (band members locking arms, playing each other’s guitars, dancing around
the stage, etc.) remain well and truly retired, as none of those antics were
visible. The band’s only image statement seems to be that they all wear white
button-down shirts, and the stickers and guitar picks (?!?) they sold at the
merch stand were likewise white. I guess that’s a bit distinctive. Sadly, they
had no music to sell, but I’ll be interested to hear their recorded output when
the time comes. I didn’t get to see all of Argonaut’s set because I had some
merch duties to attend to (namely, receiving, inventorying and displaying
Aska’s stuff, as their van pulled up in the rain late in Argonaut’s
performance), but I liked what I heard from these guys.
By now, it was 3:30 p.m., the rain had largely stopped, and the Ohio afternoon made
a brief attempt at turning muggy before reverting to its previous cool and
pleasant status. Looking around the festival grounds now, it was great to see so
many musicians from both yesterday’s and today’s lineups just hanging out and
having a good time. Members of Widow, Vindicator, Argonaut, Vanlade, Benedictum,
Shok Paris, Machinage and others were making a day of it, soaking in the metal
glory rather than simply showing up for their gig and taking off. There were no
egos, no B.S., no walls between bands and fans, just a big heavy metal family
enjoying the fact that fate brought us all together in the woods of Ohio on this
Saturday afternoon. While I’m pausing to reflect here, I should point out that
Saturday was exceptional in the sense that every band had an excellent, totally
pro sound. The mix was clear and balanced, and there were no technical gremlins
that disrupted the P.A. today. Kudos to the WOM crew for identifying and
correcting yesterday’s electrical problem to prevent any recurrence today.
Horrifier were up next. This four-piece power/thrash act hailing from the New Jersey area
was the first act of the day to have released a CD, theirs being entitled ‘Grim
Fate,’ released in a limited 700-copy run by Witches Brew Records. I’d purchased
and listened to the album a few weeks earlier and, while I’d enjoyed the peppy,
semi-thrash Iced Earth riffage, the limited vocals had left me feeling like it
could have been better. Be that as it may, I enjoyed the hell out of their
45-minute set. Bare-chested singer/guitarist Joe Potash sounded better live than
in the studio, and when he faltered, I could simply allow myself to get carried
away by the outstanding guitar riffs. I’m pretty sure that Horrifier ended up
playing the entire ‘Grim Fate’ album, plus one or two new songs. Highlights for
me included the opening instrumental “The Ultimatum,” which is a killer way to
start a gig, plus the trad metal anthem “True Metal Never Rusts!” (a curveball
from the power/thrash material dominating the set) which Potash dedicated to
Datis. The faster more neck-snapping fare was also appreciated, especially the
epic “Exordium / From Beyond the Grave.” Good stuff.
Continuing with the day’s “cool-band-name” theme, Saturday’s fourth band were
Deathalizer, a New York trio of Latinos with which I had no previous
familiarity. Although generally fitting under the thrash umbrella, Deathalizer
offered a more contemporary take on the genre than many of the other acts in
attendance. Sometimes the singer sounded like latter-day James Hetfield, and
other times both music and vocals were reminiscent of Machine Head. Deathalizer
definitely brought their New York mannerisms with them too, as one song
concluded with a lusty cry of “Motherfucker!” from the singer. To be honest,
Deathalizer was the one band in today’s lineup during whose performance my
attention wandered. That’s gonna happen in a grueling two day beer-swillin’,
horns-throwin’ weekend, and it’s no reflection on Deathalizer at all. They just
didn’t quite click with me.
Continuing on with the festivities, Kansas City, Kansas veterans Vanlade tore into
their 45-minute set beginning at 5:30 p.m. They were a real standout band at WOM
III, and they had been ubiquitous throughout WOM IV to this point already, going
all-out with their partying from the moment they arrived on the grounds and,
more importantly, being right up near the stage for nearly every other band to
rock out and lend their support. It was a pity that Vanlade could not complete
their debut album in time for WOM IV; instead, they were hawking the same
3-song demo that was available at last year’s festival. The thing is that
Vanlade are an excellent live band, offering straight-up 80s-style U.S. true
metal with thrash/speed leanings. Every song was a killer, especially the demo
tunes (“Wings of Fire,” “Blood Eagle,” and “Live by the Blade”) because those
were the most familiar to me. Singer Brett Scott showed no ill effects of the
previous evening’s alcoholic excesses, though I cringed a bit when he
brandished a sword during “Live by the Blade,” remembering that the man waving
around a deadly weapon had spent last night sleeping on top of a trailer, with
nary a clue as to how he got there. The major changes in the Vanlade camp were
that, unlike last year, they’re now a one-guitar band, plus they were using a
session drummer. Neither change had any visible detrimental effect. Lone axeman
Zakk Coffey picked up the slack, and the second guitarist wasn’t missed at all.
Vanlade sounded great, rocked hard, and had both the songs and stage presence
to deliver an impressive gig. Remember the name Vanlade. If they can ever get
their album released, I fully expect it to be a monster capable of making
significant waves in the true metal underground.
Machinage are a Brazilian thrash metal band who ambitiously decided to plan a U.S. tour
around their WOM IV appearance. Looking at the tour dates printed on the back of
the shirts they were selling, I marveled at their ambition and optimism, as it
looked like they were playing a couple weeks’ worth of dates and traveling long
distances. That’s a huge leap of faith for an unknown international metal band
to take. I do hope it worked out for them. At least their WOM performance was a
success. The audience seemed quite appreciative and the band seemed touched by
the warm response they received. Machinage play a kind of very aggressive take
on the old-school thrash metal genre, with reference points being Germany’s
thrash exports Sodom (especially vocally) and Kreator, plus Brazilian
trailblazers Sepultura circa ‘Beneath the Remains.’ The quartet even went into
tribal mode a time or two, melding what sounded to my novice ears like native
Brazilian beats to their full-on thrash attack. I liked the gesture of them
hanging a Brazilian flag on one side of the stage and a USA flag on the other.
Anyway, Machinage were an enjoyable addition to the bill, even though their set
officially closed out the thrash portion of the festivities.
We now reach the “all-killer, no-filler” part of WOM IV, as Datis had wisely set
three outstanding bands to round out the Saturday schedule. The first of these
was San Diego’s Benedictum, a female-fronted outfit that combines
technical playing and a love of traditional metal with modern sensibilities and
super-heavy edge. Their last couple of albums have clicked with me, big-time,
was I was quite eager to see how Benedictum fared in a live setting. The answer
is that they were fantastic. Singer Veronica Freeman (who actually bears a
striking resemblance to Jen’s favorite aunt who lives in El Paso) possesses an
enormously powerful voice and a commanding stage presence. Jen also noted
(because husbands do notice such things, and if they do, they damn sure know
better than to comment about them to wives) that Veronica was dressed in a
manner that was metal and sexy, without going over the top with skin and
cleavage. Actually, the visual focal point for me was amiable hulking guitarist
Pete Wells, whose camouflage axe looks like it could have been nicked from
Sabaton’s arsenal but who is a highly gifted player. It was a joy to watch him
play. The same is true of bassist and drummer, both of whom were performing at
a quite technical level. And the songs? Well, Benedictum have plenty of
excellent songs from which to choose, and they did a nice job hitting the high
points from all three of their albums (with the exception of “Them” from the
debut – those lyrics are just goofy). My only gripes were that they could have
skipped the drum solo in favor of another song, and in a few places the backing
tapes were distracting. Still, Benedictum were worth the trip to Kirkersville
all by themselves, especially when they played my two fave songs (“Shell Shock”
and “Beast in the Field”) back to back. Much headbanging and rockin’ out ensued.
As an added bonus, Veronica held the microphone out for me to yell out one of
the choruses in “Shell Shock.” Woo hoo. Oh, and the “Mob Rules” cover at the end
of their set was a perfect way to finish things off. Aside from their
performance, Benedictum were a class act throughout the gig, hanging out with
fans and so on, plus they brought probably the coolest array of merch of any
band, including three different t-shirt designs and multiple girlie-shirt
designs (which Jen delighted in showing to female attendees who expressed
interest in Benedictum at the merch area). I definitely, definitely left WOM IV
a bigger fan of Benedictum than I was when I arrived.
Setlist: Dominion, Benedictum, Two Steps to the Sun, Dark Heart, At the Gates, Bare
Bones, Them, Shell Shock, Beast in the Field, The Mob Rules.
The next band was a real treat. Shok Paris are rightfully viewed as legends
of the 1980s Cleveland metal scene, and wrote some of the best U.S. metal of
that time period. Today, singer Vic Hix and guitarist Ken Erb have assembled a
new lineup and are nearly finished with their work on a brand-new Shok Paris
album. Live shows are sporadic with this bunch, unfortunately, so I was ecstatic
when they were added to the WOM Fest roster. The net result was 70 minutes of
absolute headbanging bliss. Maybe all that beer had something to do with it, but
hearing amazing live renditions of songs like “On Your Feet,” “Go for the
Throat,” “Hot on Your Heels,” and “Go Down Fighting” hit me like a ton of
bricks. So I went up to the front of the stage, stood right in front of Erb, and
rocked out. Perhaps my favorite moment of the festival was when two-thirds of
Widow and esteemed BW&BK scribe Mark Gromen joined me and we formed a
quartet of headbanging frenzy. Such was the impact of Shok Paris on this night.
They were the perfect band for this spot in the roster and for my state of mind
as we neared the end of a glorious weekend of heavy metal freedom, far from the
workaday constraints of responsible adulthood and all of that crap. Oh, and for
the record, in addition to dishing out the classics, Shok Paris gave us a solid
preview of their forthcoming ‘Full Metal Jacket’ opus by airing no fewer than 5
songs from it. The new material impressed, especially the high-energy “Hell
Gate” and the catchy “Do or Die.” I couldn’t help but notice that Hix messed up
on a couple of the newer songs by cutting in at the wrong time; in fact, I
could have sworn I saw Erb elbow him in the ribs on one of those occasions, and
Hix seemed to be muttering to himself over at the side of the stage during
another. But these minor mishaps are to be expected when a band is performing
new songs. I don’t think anyone in the audience minded. For my part, I have
nothing but praise for Shok Paris, and gratitude that they drove down to
Kirkersville to put on a killer show for the small, hardy crowd of die-hards in
attendance. I can’t wait to pick up ‘Full Metal Jacket’ when it sees the light
of day later this year.
Setlist: On Your Feet, Concrete Killers, Steel and Starlight, Go for the Throat, Never
Say Why, Caged Tiger, Hot on Your Heels, On War with the World, Chosen Ones,
Take Me Away (new song), Darkened Road (new song), Hell Gate (new song), Full
Metal Jacket (new song), Do or Die (new song), Go Down Fighting, Burn It Down,
Run But Don’t Hide.
The post-Shok Paris euphoria quickly yielded to anxiety, as rumors were swirling
that Aska had not yet arrived on the grounds. They were supposed to go
onstage in 15 minutes. Nahh, I didn’t really worry. I had seen the guys early
that afternoon when they dropped off their merch. I knew there was no way they
would leave hundreds of dollars in merch and skip town. Besides, they have
worked with Datis for three years now, and the idea of them leaving him in the
lurch was preposterous. Sure enough, the Aska van pulled up a few minutes later
and, at 10:40 p.m., the mighty Aska commenced their headlining set. There was a
surprise awaiting all of us. Singer George Call was running around the stage
with no guitar, and there was a fifth dude on stage playing guitar in his
stead. Turns out George learned during his time in Omen to relish being able to
concentrate on singing and being a frontman, without worrying about guitar
duties, so the Texans recruited a Frenchman named Chris to assume second-guitar
responsibilities. This is a very recent development, so it’s to be expected
that Chris hasn’t fully gelled with the band yet, at least visually (the
Accept-style synchronized headbanging that characterized previous Aska shows
was largely absent tonight). But he played great, and he freed George up to be
a ball of energy careening about the stage. I’ve known George Call for 15
years, and I swear the man is a natural born rockstar (the red star on his
chest in tonight’s wardrobe just drives home the point). He was obviously
having a blast being untethered to his guitar, and I honestly think his voice
sounded stronger than I’ve ever heard it before. And the rest of the band?
Fantastic, as always. Danny White is an excellent traditional metal drummer,
and it was tons of fun to watch bassist Keith Knight and guitarist Daryl
Norton, both of whom are total pros and fine players to boot.
This wasn’t the consummate Aska live performance, nor was it intended to be. Because
the late start, they only had about 75 minutes before the Frontier Ranch curfew
would require the power to be cut off. So there was no chance of an
every-Aska-song-you-ever-wanted-to-hear set like the one they played at the
Pathfinder Metal Fest in 2009. And while everyone is eager to hear new Aska
songs, and the new record is basically done, the band didn’t perform any of
those songs. Instead, they offered up 9 of the greatest Aska songs of all time,
stringing together one awesome classic after another, punctuated with a pair of
classic metal covers, in the form of Maiden’s “The Trooper” and Priest’s
“You’ve Got Another Thing Coming.” More importantly, Aska’s show perfectly
suited the family vibe and feel of the evening, with George’s banter being
funnier than usual (i.e., saying that “we’re all 70 years old but we still
rock,” urging the crowd to be so loud that the “rappers in the next field over”
could hear us, insisting that Aska were a band of brothers and would never
replace anyone before admitting that they’ve replaced plenty of people over the
years, but not this time). Songs like “Longships,” “Invasion,” and “Crown of
Thorns” are by now thoroughly imprinted in my DNA, so hearing those tunes was
like saying hello to an old friend. At one point, George put the mike in front
of me so I could belt out a chorus of “Blood! Fire! And the dead will ride the
wings / Of the Valkyries!” then said “Come on, let’s give it up for Kit Ekman.”
Well, let’s just say that I was a mighty happy camper at that moment (even if my
performance prompted Gromen to comment later, “Your voice sucks,” which is
undoubtedly true).
Then it got even better. For the Priest cover, the plan was to have Machinage’s
guitarist (who was celebrating a birthday) and our friend Larry (a bass player
from Detroit whom Jen and I had befriended when he and his wife came to WOM III)
come on stage to jam with Aska. Then Daryl’s guitar broke a string, and with the
clock ticking rapidly toward the midnight curfew, there was no time to fix it.
So Larry grabbed his bass and went on stage as scheduled, the Machinage guy
stood up there and smiled while everyone wished him a happy birthday, Keith from
Aska picked up a microphone, and Aska launched into “You’ve Got Another Thing
Coming,” with Keith and George sharing the vocals. Or so I thought. Next thing
I knew, George said, “Kit, come on up here.” So I handed Jen the camera and
tried to vault myself onto the stage like the Lords of the Trident guy had done
yesterday. Did I mention that the stage was more than 6 feet off the ground?
Did I mention that I had been drinking beer all day? Did I mention that I’m a
total weakling? I tried and tried, but there was no way in hell I was ever
going to get up there, until one of the burly WOM crew members took pity on me
and gave me a boost from behind to vault me up onto the stage. Whew. Now, wait,
holy crap, I’m on stage with Aska! Woo hoo. Now what do I do? I looked back at
Danny and waved. I sang a little bit with Keith and George. I put my arm on
Larry’s shoulder and we rocked. In the meantime, the stage was filling with
other people too. George was calling up sponsors, friends, everyone to join the
band on stage as the Priest song kept thundering along. He tried to get Datis
up there, but Datis was far too engrossed in his video camera. So the last song
of WOM IV was a total celebration of heavy metal, of our heavy metal family,
and of a killer festival weekend. That, my friends, is the way to put an
exclamation point on a festival. Great times.
Setlist: Angels of War, Leather, Invasion, Legion, Killashandra, The Stalker, The
Trooper, Longships, Valkyries, Crown of Thorns, You’ve Got Another Thing Coming.
The live music portion of WOM IV have concluded with the tolling of the witching
hour, but the after-show party went on for hours. The Aska guys hung around
until after 3:00 a.m. talking and laughing with fans, friends (including
George’s high school friend Larry, who doesn’t really listen to metal but who
came out to support his buddy at WOM for two years in a row and even camped out
with us tonight), other band members and so on. At one point, Keith was telling
Jen and me a story when Jen simply closed her eyes and fell asleep. Keith seemed
taken aback by this at first, not realizing Jen’s remarkable power to fall
asleep at any time and in any circumstances. This ability was compounded after a
night of little sleep in the tent, no doubt. Did I mention we’re not campers?
Eventually, a group of us piled into the Aska van for a listening session of
around five songs from the new Aska album. It was amazing to hear these songs
for the first time with George and Danny pointing out little details and
telling stories about the songs as we went along. George was even singing along
with his recorded self. And the songs … oh, man, it sounds to me like Aska are
sitting on an incredible record that will cement their legacy as one of the
greatest American metal bands of the last 20 years. Here’s hoping it comes to
fruition soon. Let’s see, then there was an episode of complete hilarity when
Datis was trying to get his photo taken with Aska in complete darkness (all of
the lights on the festival ground having been killed for the night), which his
camera didn’t like. So we all made way for the food vendor’s booth, which still
had a light on, so as to accommodate Datis’s photo. We entered the food booth,
and found beer everywhere. There were cases of beer stacked up, and dozens of
cans of beer sitting, nicely chilled, in an inflatable swimming pool with cold
water. Party on, Wayne! Needless to say, it took all of a few seconds for Aska
and friends (including Jen and me) to break into the beer stash. After some
more beer, there was a happy birthday singing for Lea, and a happy anniversary
singing for Jen and me. Then the drummer from Vanlade walked in, totally
wasted. He came up to me and said, “Dude, you have short hair, but you sure can
headbang.” Hahaha. He somehow got into a beer chugging contest with one of the
other Aska fans, although he was so drunk it couldn’t possibly have been a good
idea. We egged him on, chanting, “chug chug chug” like some heavy metal frat
party gone terribly awry. The Vanlade dude decided he needed a sharp implement
to facilitate his chugging, so George found him a pair of scissors, which the
dude then proceeded to try to stab into his beer can, nearly stabbing himself
in the process. Datis, sensing an imminent trip to the emergency room if he
didn’t take control of the situation, said, “That’s it. Everyone needs to
leave.” And just like that, the party broke up at 3 or 3:30 a.m. Boy was it fun
though. We said our goodbyes and stumbled back to our tent in the inky
blackness. So exhausted were we that, despite the uncomfortable conditions, we
were fast asleep before our heads hit the partially-inflated air mattress. Ah, rest …
Sunday, June 19, 2011
“And the rockets red glare / The bombs bursting in air ….” By way of a postscript, we
didn’t sleep for long. At around 7 a.m., I awakened to the sound of firecrackers
/ bottle rockets / explosive devices being detonated right near our tent. It
happened over and over again, until finally Lea yelled for whoever was setting
off the fireworks to knock it off because they’re not allowed at Frontier Ranch.
And, oh yeah, it was 7 a.m. We tried to rest some more, then eventually decided
it was time to get up and take a shower. Only problem there was that I had left
the $1.88 Wal-Mart towels hanging on a nearby tree branch to dry the previous
morning. That would have been a fine idea except that it rained like hell on
Saturday. Suffice it to say the towels were not even slightly dry. Did I
mention we’re not campers? Nonetheless Jen tried to put a cheerful spin on the
dilemma, insisting that even though the towels were sopping wet, they “still had
drying properties.” That’s my glass-half-full girl. With that, we took showers
and tried to ignore the damp funky smell of our towels. I used my brown soap
this morning. When I informed Datis of that fact, he asked me if I felt like a
Highlander. Hmmm, yeah, now that he mentions it, I suppose I did. Fantastic
soap, Datis! For the next couple of hours, we engaged in Fest post-mortems with
Datis, Lea and George’s friend Larry, still wearing last night’s Hawaiian
shirt, on a nearly deserted campsite. Hell, even the goats were gone, as were
those crazy dudes from Vanlade. Sadly, we had a plane to catch, so we said our
goodbyes, packed up our meager belongings from the tent, left those soaking
wet, funky-smelling $1.88 Wal-Mart towels hanging in those same damn tree
branches to dry, and hit the road.
Overall, we had a great time at WOM IV. The Fest has improved drastically from its 2010
incarnation, and promises to be even better next year as Datis, Lea and Ryan
pursue their dream of a Euro style open air festival in America. They’re already
close. They’ve got the venue. They’ve got the caliber of musical talent (albeit
perhaps not the name recognition). They’ve got the professional sound and stage
management that kept things sounding good and running on time all weekend long.
Now they just need attendees, people willing to plunk down some dollars, spend a
weekend in Ohio, and support true heavy metal. Who’s in?
Special thanks go to everyone who made our weekend so enjoyable: Datis for the good
cheer and excellent roster, Lea for bearing with me no matter how many times I
abandoned my merch booth duties to go see a band, Goose Island Brewery for
making an extremely tasty brew that you cannot find in Alabama, Aska and Widow
for being such good dudes and good friends, Shok Paris for one of the best shows
I’ve ever seen by a “legacy” band from the 1980s, Mark Gromen for finding humor
in every situation, George’s friend Larry for being more metal than any of us,
Vanlade for being insane, Larry the bassist from Detroit and his wife for being
such cool and genuine people, and on and on and on. See you next year, Ohio.
Let’s hear it for WOM V: The Revenge of the Goats!
~ Review by Kit Ekman ~