It’s called death metal, but it’s actually a very vital form of music. Now in its fifth decade, it’s more relevant and creative than ever, and still coming up with new ways to surprise us. This “Long Roads and Big Loads” tour is a good slice of what the genre has to offer today, and it’s great to see such a crowd out on a night in which a) the Habs are playing, b) the Seps are playing their farewell tour, and c) there’s also a big thrash fest featuring Macabre and Goregasm at Piranha Bar.
I’d never been to Beanfield, but it’s a beautiful old theatre on the inside, and there’s a nice seating area upstairs for us old farts to rest our weary bones between sets (or even the whole show if you need). Local boys Fracturus open proceedings in fine style, their crystalline arpeggio leads signaling some nice and chunky melodic tech death with hardcore vocals, with at times a little Anselmo in them. “On est tres contents d’être ici pour ouvrir le soir,” says vocalist Shayne O’Brien, in his Spectral Wound long-sleeve. There’s no live bassist tonight, which isn’t ideal, but what the band lacks in originality they more than make up for in energy, creating a good sense of tension and mood. Am I hearing correctly some drum’n’bass breaks and even hip-hop nu metal grooves amid the death metal riffage? In any case, I encourage Fracturus to lean into whatever can distinguish them from the pack.
Mutilation Barbecue’s Amalgamations of Gore was one of my most played albums of 2024, and from the start of their set it’s clear that their style of death metal is of the dirty, low, and guttural variant, displaying an old-school griminess. New vocalist Tristan Wright is very performative onstage with his gurning and body language, thanking the audience for choosing to be here despite all the other options tonight. Their song “Flesh Regenerated” reminds me a little of Ministry’s classic “N.W.O.,” which is nice.
Electronic noises introduce Crown Magnetar, a band I have never really been able to get into on record, mainly because of how quiet the drums and low end are, and I’m curious as to whether it will be different live. To my astonishment, it isn’t: the drums remain very high-end, plus guitars and bass are almost inaudible, and what you mainly hear are vocals and cymbals. Singer Dan Tucker, with his heavily tattooed torso, is very animated, and does a great job at whipping up a circle pit, urging, “Scream for me Montreal!!” Ultimately, though, their set wins me over through sheer brute force of energy and locked-down grooves, and riffs do begin to eventually emerge from the mix. “We’ve got 64 more songs for you!” jokes Tucker, and at this point I do actually want more.
Rap song “Weak Niggaz” by Project Pat, followed by a long pause including the band confabulating together onstage, usher in Rochester, NY quintet Undeath. “Live music! You never know what’s going to happen,” says singer Alexander Sason, but once it gets going their set is a good slice of no-nonsense death metal, which Sason self-deprecatingly calls “stupid death metal,” yet is anything but. Some chunky staccato riffing that reminds me of Helmet emerges from “Chained to a Reeking Rotted Body,” piquing my interest, and all in all Undeath are a solid slice of classic brutal death metal, though they could also branch out and flex their creativity a bit more moving forward.
The Crazy Frog remix of Axel F’s Beverly Hills Cop theme introduces Archspire, who are presented onstage by bearded hype man Brett Bamberger: “Straight from the scum-infested streets Vancouver, BC, I present to you the fattest, baldest, laziest sacks of shit Canada can produce!” Singer Oli Aleron is wearing a “The Future is Bald” t-shirt, and guitarist Tobi Morelli’s simply says “Uncut”: the vibe is “wacky.” From the beginning it’s clear that their comedy side will be on full display tonight. It also becomes quickly clear that they’re really bad at this. Aleron reads from a prop “Best Jokes Ever” book and tells a joke comparing his fridge to a children’s hospital full of “three-month-old vegetables that should be thrown in the garbage.” He seemingly hasn’t got the memo that punching down in humour fucking sucks.
Their musical performance is tight, no complaints there, with the quintet’s trademark pummeling scatterbrain tech death atop scatting, jabbering vocals, creating complex sonic architectures with a head-bobbing groove amid all the speed. Archspire have a unique sound, and tonight it’s satisfying, but in small doses, because you’re left to get your musical fix one song at a time, due to all the “comedy” that crops up between songs, whether it’s threats to play an Iron Maiden song, getting the crowd to call their moms from the show, inviting two audience members onstage to do a “shoey” (drink a beer from their shoe and put it on their heads), which they are rewarded for with a t-shirt that says “I do not fuck kids” (the “not” is really small), or dividing the audience into “circumsized” and “uncircumsized” and making them play with beach balls. Which kinda assumes the audience is all male, not entirely true, but not far off the mark either, and in any case a reminder that this tour is starting to feel a bit like a sausagefest.
Archspire recently crowdfunded their new album, raising an astonishing CAD $400K, which shows that there are people out there willing to support brutal technical death metal (which is great), and the line to buy merch never really stops all night. With a bigger platform comes a bigger responsibility…to not be dicks. The video for “Carrion Ladder,” their grand return to audiences on this new album cycle, featured transphobic and homophobic jokes, and disappointingly it’s not a fluke. Tonight Aleron does it again, starting by saying he hates it when bands get political, and he’s not going to do that. He expresses sympathy with what the American people are going through right now, and then embarks on a long-winded anecdote which ends with a homophobic punchline about an ex-con giving him a blowjob. Lighten up! Live a little! Nah, fuck off with that. Comedy is an art like any other: you need to know what you’re doing.
Metal bands have been incorporating comedy forever, this is not rocket science. And especially now that metal bands doing comedy is going mainstream, whether it be Electric Callboy (who have cleaned up their act, though tellingly retain the “callboy” part of their original moniker, Eskimo Callboy), Raised by Owls (who actually are hilarious), Dethklok (returning to the scene!), Sanguisugabogg (hit or miss, and frequently in hot water), or even extreme bands like Party Cannon or Brojob, who use comedy to actually say something about shitty masculinity in the metal scene, Archspire really need to work harder on their comedy chops, to avoid lapsing into any more of this prejudice-laden bullshit.
Anyway, despite this sour note, tonight was otherwise a fine night of contemporary death metal in all its glory. As we make our way home on the subway, we encounter metal fans returning from the other shows and dejected Habs fans alike, all tired but ready to fight another day.
Review – Daniel Lukes
Photos – Claudia Guillemette
