The Melvins mean Business

As proven by new albums from Made out of Babies, Torche, Boris, Harvey Milk and Jesu, the Melvins' influence on music just keeps growing. As proven by the recent Melvins/Big Business show at Music Hall of Williamsburg, the best place to get ear-bludgeoning, anvil-heavy avant-metal is still the original source.

The Melvins' roster now includes Big Business bassist Jared Warren and drummer Coady Willis, completing King Buzzo and Dale Crover's best lineup to date. Think the bizarro-metal equivalent of the Highwaymen. For the third straight year, the Melvins toured with Big Business opening the show, and for the the third straight year I went. Each tour has been completely different, and each show has rocked my socks off.

Big Business opened with some face-grinding tracks off their latest, Here Come the Waterworks. Their blend of Motörhead-tinged punk-metal and High on Fire's stoner thrash steamrolled out in songs like "Hands Up" and "Grounds for Divorce," with Warren's fuzz-heavy riffs and Willis' persistent drumming (clearly indebted to Crover's) verifying that two humans can sound like an army. New guitarist Toshi Kasai barely affected the band's sound, but it will be good to hear his contributions on their upcoming album, especially if some of night's unrecognized songs are on it. Big Business focused on their fastest, most Spartan music, missing some of the variety in past performances by excluding Waterworks' adventuresome second half. But they enthralled the entire house with a wham-bam show that ended before you wondered where the thank you went.

Warren and Willis returned, flanked by Buzzo and Crover, and the Melvins ripped into "Nude with Boots," the title track from their newest tour de force. The catchy, major-key workout is uncharacteristic even for a band with few defining traits, and a good example of the band's penchant for risk 25 years into their career. The payoff has been some of their very best music, from the successful Led Zeppelin bite in "The Kicking Machine" to the head-spinning "Suicide in Progress" and the magnificent "Billy Fish," all part of the Melvins' new opus and all sampled in the evening. Thankfully, Nude with Boots' equally strong predecessor had a healthy dose in the set, and the twisted, riff-oriented (A) Senile Animal tracks (including a virile one-two of "Rat-Faced Granny" and "The Hawk") had the Music Hall's crowd shouting and headbanging like arena rock kids. With a little tweaking, the latest Melvins' songs could probably make it to the Modern Rock charts, but that'd be like rewriting Napalm Death's Scum to compete with Def Leppard's Hysteria. Who'd want to?



Unlike most supergroups, the current Melvins lineup sounds more like a band than a group of musicians playing over each other. King Buzzo's Gibson had an answer for everything Warren's bass threw at it, and the two drummers played with a tightness and sync that defied their improvised-sounding constructions. Sharing vocal duties and never missing a note in the most unstable, breakneak-paced compositions, the proficient quartet raced through a deafening "Honey Bucket," plodded through perhaps the most ominous "Dies Iraea" yet recorded and inflicted the monumental "A History of Bad Men" in a seven-minute blast of awesomeness. None of it interrupted by stage banter, encore breaks or more than seconds between cacophony.

The Melvins were still throwing out curveballs near the end of their set, including an almost unrecognizable, drummers-only take on the Who's "My Generation" and a faithful, a capella and unironic rendition of Francis Scott Key's masterpiece. Closing with "Boris," the Bullhead track that a critically-adored Japanese band took their name from, the Melvins seemed to finally acknowledge the presence of all their followers. The band proceeded, as they had been doing all evening, to rock harder than all of them.





Update, 9/8/08: Doug Miller wrote a stellar piece on King Buzzo's baseball fandom, right here.

Judas!

The PNC Center in Holmdel, NJ would be worth driving to for Judas Priest, Black Sabbath with Ronnie James Dio, Motörhead or Testament individually. So when four of the greatest metal bands in history take the same stage on the same night, there's no good excuse for any New England resident who's ever raised their index and pinky finger to not be at the appropriately named "Metal Masters" tour.

By far the heaviest band of the evening, Testament kicked off the show the same way they kicked off their first album--with "Over the Wall," the speed-metal staple that made them a prominent force in the thrash metal world. Given only 30 minutes to leave an impression on a bill with four of the most respected metal bands in history, Testament played only their very best songs, including "Practice what you Preach" and "The New Order," while keeping the stage banter to "New Jersey!" and "Show your horns!"

Of course, playing the hits meant treating us to a few from The Formation of Damnation, their revitalizing new album which ranks as one of their very best. "More than Meets the Eye" and the title track make Testament one of the only thrash metal bands that successfully updated their sound for the 21st century. The band adapted their club sound for the arena, and sounded invigorated to have overcome a 9-year gap between albums, hefty singer Chuck Billy's life-threatening cancer and various side projects, including guitarist Alex Skolnick's jazz trio and drummer Paul Bostaph's stints in Slayer and Exodus. But all that mattered at the show was Testament as a band, and they're once again among metal's elite.



Testament's set ended at 6pm, and the arena was already overflowing with metalheads chanting the name of the next band on the bill. Motörhead may be nearly foreign to major labels, album sales charts and RIAA certifications, but their influence on metal ranks with Black Sabbath and Metallica. Their music nearly defies analysis by being one loud, fast and infectious punk-metal tune spread out over a 33-year-career, and as proven at PNC, their annual albums and perpetual tours are still some of rock's greatest. Premier badass Lemmy growled and raved classics like "Dr. Rock," "Stay Clean" and "Over the Top" between newer songs that were just as fierce, while his hugely underrated band (guitarist Phil Campbell and drummer Mikkey Dee) displayed stronger chops than previously thought possible for a predominately three-chord band.

The signature "Ace of Spades" got the biggest crowd reaction, but the band's strongest moment came with the closer, "Overkill." Lemmy and Campbell sped through the original thrash anthem over Dee's exhausting drumming, with the one-word chorus emitting screams and a few lawn mosh pits from the arena. Appropriate to the song's theme, the band went through three false endings before Lemmy hoisted his bass up against his shoulder like a machine gun, pointing the headstock at the crowd and proceeding to gun down the front with his Rickenbacker. It ended there, otherwise Motörhead could've damn well blown away their storied headliners.



The band that everyone knows is Dio-era Black Sabbath (billed as "Heaven & Hell" for legal reasons) opened up with the smashing "The Mob Rules," which sounds like AC/DC with a more complicated riff. The impish Dio, now 66, belted out the verses like the metal god he's finally getting credit for being while Tony Iommi emancipated the legendary solos with the same ease that he took to the song's iconic riff.

It was an uncharacteristic moment in their set, which focused on the band's sludgier, jam-oriented music. The blame goes to Iommi--perhaps he wanted to show the kids that know him for "Iron Man" that he's an amazing technical guitarist, or maybe 40 years of being probably the most important figure in metal history has gone to his head. Dio's prancing and use of the stage set (which included gargoyles, a red light that gave his face a nighttime flashlight effect and a foreboding gate that collapsed in a Spinal Tap moment) contrasted strangely with Iommi's self-seriousness, but there was no denying the strength of "Die Young," "Children of the Sea" or wanky closer "Heaven and Hell." It was always spellbinding to be in the presence of such awesome musicians, although I would've sacrificed some of Vinny Appice's drum solo or Iommi's noodling to hear "Neon Knights."



Only a handful of artists could have followed those openers, and Judas Priest were more than up for the task. The Priest have a new two-CD concept album, Nostradamus, which matches their greatest ambitions and indulgences, but they barely touched on it, opening with an awe-inspiring "Prophecy" before segueing right into the classic "Metal Gods." The 30-year-old ode to artificial intelligence help forge the band's blend of hard rock and metal, melding simple, rock-inspired riffs with indisputably metal guitar solos, lyrical content and grandiosity.

Judas Priest are performers on almost a KISS-like level, decked out in biker-meets-S&M gear and sporting Nostradamus-inspired backdrops and stage props. Operatic singer Rob Halford, whose dramatic flair recalls Freddie Mercury, belted out fan favorites like "Devil's Child" and "Dissident Aggressor" between synchronized headbanging with guitarists Glenn Tipton and K.K. Downing. An absolutely face-melting "The Hellion/Electric Eye" had the audience screaming back the chorus, and that highlight was topped moments later during "Painkiller," an almost death-metal track that ushered the Priest back into relevance in the '90s. Scott Travis' double-bass heavy drumming has given the band a heavier sound than they've ever had, and one suspects that if the Priest didn't keep pushing themselves sonically and conceptually, his two-fisted attack would bury them. But who could ever see Judas Priest backing down?

As someone who's endured more controversy than nearly any other rock star, Halford is a surprisingly endearing frontman. He closes his eyes when he sings, modestly thanks the crowd for their appreciation and almost shyly hunches over while performing. Even when decked out in leather and chains or seated on a motorcycle (during "Hell Bent for Leather,") Judas Priest seem like a good bunch of blokes. It helps that the band clearly enjoys being worship-worthy metal rulers, grinning and headbanging throughout the set and playing "Breaking the Law" like it's a new song they've eagerly waited to debut. If the plaintiffs in the infamous subliminal message trial (or anyone in the PMRC) had actually seen this band perform, it's hard to think that they'd ever waste the world's time with their soulless causes.



Judas Priest concluded with "You've Got Another Thing Coming," a rare crossover hit from the '80s that brought metal into much of the world's consciousness. 25 years later, they're still one of the most challenging and exciting bands in the world, and standouts among the best metal bands in history.

Gettin' Iggy with it

Normally, a band that was founded 40 years ago and recently released a bad reunion album wouldn't be anyone's idea of a good show. Factor in the lead singer pouncing around shirtless and in tight pants, and it sounds like a disaster. But there's nothing remotely normal about the Stooges, who put on one of the year's best shows last night at Terminal 5.



Tearing into "Loose" and "Down on the Street" seconds after appearing onstage, it appeared that the Stooges were going to run through all their classics before the 30-minute mark. Thankfully, there's not a single runt on the band's three original albums, and song after song of unhinged, high-energy craziness tore the house up all night long. The intensity level never dropped, and punk prototypes "I Wanna Be Your Dog," "1969" and "No Fun" were freed from the shoddy production of the first album. "I am you!" bellowed rambunctious singer Iggy Pop, somewhere between diving in the front row, climbing up onto the Marshall amps and gyrating like someone getting an exorcism. Somehow, he was never winded, and his powerful, versatile singing dominated the songs as much as any instrument.

Iggy Pop is a marvel, really something that has to be seen to be believed. It's hard to think of a more anarchistic frontman--everyone from Perry Farrell to Karen O cops his act, but the original Stooge still delivers better than just about anyone. I'd be impressed to see any lead singer crowd surf, destroy the stage equipment or just run around as much as Iggy did, but before Friday, the thought of a 61-year-old wreaking so much havoc was downright inconceivable. "I want mayhem!" screamed the lean-looking frontman, like any other punk rock singer. The difference being that Iggy followed up on it by bringing a great deal of the audience up onstage with him. Security struggled to keep fans from mobbing the band, but outsiders observing the melee would be concerned for the audience's safety. After all, they were dangerously close to that long-haired, free-swinging madman.



Not that it was all Iggy's show--the Asheton brothers (Ron on guitar, Scott on drums) exploded through the PA with grimy, distorted riffage that almost overcame Terminal 5's awful acoustics. Coupled with the fact that all the band's equipment had been stolen days earlier, underwhelming sound could be forgiven, but the Stooges unleashed a torrential noise hurricane, filled out by revered Minutemen bassist Mike Watt and original saxophonist Steve MacKay. The guitar was mixed way below the vocals and drums, but it still sounded lethal.

A few new songs made their way into the set, and while none of them were particularly great, the band played with enough vigor to make them sound in place with the classics. It would have been preferable to hear something like "Dirt," but Iggy and the Stooges could've performed My Chemical Romance songs all night and still pulled off a great show. Stoic and focused, Ron Asheton's coolness complemented Iggy's rowdiness and vice versa. By the time the band had melted "Fun House" into the chaotic, punk free jazz of "L.A. Blues," they were exhausting all their energy into their respective instruments, seemingly driving the set to a close. I couldn't have expected more, but once again, the Stooges were full of surprises.

The band hadn't played anything 1973's Raw Power all night--despite being one of the greatest rock albums in existence, it features a different guitarist (James Williamson.) Plus, the Stooges have enough great songs elsewhere to be able to phase it out of the set. But they rolled out "Search and Destroy," a Raw Power highlight that remains of the fiercest songs ever recorded. The Stooges sped through that and a few more songs, barely pausing for breath, never letting one musician solo while the rest took a break, and ignoring all of their (admittedly awesome) slower, psychedelic-influenced songs like "We Will Fall."



"Turn on all these fuckin' lights!" shouted Iggy to whoever was working the house lights. "Like in high school! Like prom time! Like Guantanamo!" he continued, before the lighting tech obeyed him. Iggy grinned maliciously. "Speaking of torture, this next song..."

If this is torture, chain me to the wall.

The hole truth and nothing butt

The Butthole Surfers' July 29 show at Webster Hall will be remembered for security ejecting Gibby Haynes from the venue, prematurely ending the set and causing a near-riot. However, the hour or so before that was a pretty great show from one of the most infamous alternative bands ever.

Opening were Paul Green's School of Rock All-Stars, who played a few shows with lead Butthole Gibby Haynes earlier this year. The kids, who performed with Yes' Jon Anderson and KISS' Paul Stanley before their unlikely Surfers team-up, performed an array of excellent songs, including King Crimson's "21st-Century Schizoid Man," Frank Zappa's "Zomby Woof," Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" and Metallica's "Motorbreath," each song getting the skillful and hard-rocking rendition it deserved. Musicians that were still too young to drink were the world's best bar band that evening, capturing the filthiness of AC/DC on "Whole Lotta Rosie" and the Jackson 5's energy on "ABC." I hope to see a headlining set sometime.

The next band had a long name, weird costumes and not one second of interesting music. The only memorable moment came when one of their singers tried three different mics onstage before realizing that none of them were working. It was a sign of things to come.

Without dimming the lights first or building the suspense with entrance music, the Buttholes' abrupt entrance was the first of many surprises that night. Lead singer Gibby Haynes, alternating between his signature "Gibbytronix" voice changer and a bullhorn, started with the bizarro, molestation tale dronefest "22 going on 23" and got weirder from there. The goofy, pseudo-blues "Moving to Florida" saw all its samples and interludes enlivened by the band, which nailed every eccentricity from the. The songs resembled their LP-counterparts structurally, but took on a smoother flow thanks to guitarist Paul Leary and bassist Jeff Pinkus, while Gibby provided most of the night's improv.

In what could probably be taken to court as child abuse, School of Rock musicians joined the band on songs like "I Saw an X-Ray of a Girl Passing Gas." While the proficient kids lacked the headliners' impulsiveness, they played the songs well and added spectacle, especially on a version of "Sweat Loaf" that included a synchronized dance. The song's spoken, Gibbytronix intro of a father plausibly corrupting his son was appropriate for the scene, and after a few minutes of Gibby ad-libs, he got down to the most famous quote in Surfer history: "Well son, a funny thing about regret is that it's better to regret something you have done than to regret something you haven't done. And by the way, if you see your mom this weekend, will you be sure and tell her--SATAN!SATAN!SATAN!" The twisted Black Sabbath riff kicked in while Gibby ranted and wailed. It became perfectly clear how of one this band's performances helped push Daniel Johnston off the deep end.

As is legend at Surfers shows, footage dismemberments, surgeries and genital disfigurement graced the screen behind the band while they performed. However, it didn't seem too ghastly in context, especially considering how hard it was to concentrate on anything other than the band. The Surfers avoided their more conventional late-'90s material (including their sole hit, "Pepper,") but some of their soundscape-pushing material on albums like Independent Worm Saloon, Locust Abortion Technician and Hairway to Steven have catchier choruses than anything on Electriclarryland. It was further proof that the four men and one woman behind one of the most incomparable rock bands in history are in on something that the rest of us are never going to get.

In hindsight, the Surfers didn't play many of their best songs, including "Creep in the Cellar," "Lady Sniff," "Human Cannonball" and "Hurdy Gurdy Man." For a band that's been accused of drug-induced inconsistency on their studio albums, they were unable to fit all their great songs into set with no weak spots. It's very probable that we would have heard more of the Surfers' awesomeness, had the set not been cut short.

During early-'80s punkabilly gem "Gary Floyd," Gibby darted stage left to confront the house soundman about the vocals and guitar cutting out. When that didn't change anything, it appeared to this viewer that Gibby heaved the contents of a half-full beer bottle in the perp's direction, causing two enormous security guards to grab Gibby and escort him offstage. Gibby smiled and waved goodbye, leaving Leary to efficiently lead the band through "The Shah Sleeps in Lee Harvey's Grave" before the band took off. The crowd's chants of "Gibby!" and "One more!" turned into venomous cries of "Bullshit!" and "Fuck Webster Hall!" Plastic cups flew, boos filled the air and Surfers' notoriety went up another notch. Reports have been conflicting (a security guard told me that the band had simply gone on past the venue's curfew,) but here's what Leary had to say.

'I'm still sorting them out in my head.. The first thing I'd like to point out is that all these references to the "sound man" are actually references to the Webster Hall house stage monitor engineer, not our actual sound man. Our sound man Kevin has done an outstanding job. During sound check, there was a major problem with feedback in one (or both) of Gibby's vocal microphones. Kevin had to come on stage after sound check and used an equalizer to correct the problem. After the show, he observed that his corrections had been bypassed for the show. If it feeds back on stage, there is no way to turn up vocals in the room. The monitor engineer did nothing to fix the feedback, his most important function for the job he was being paid to do.

This should have been a better show. Gibby was totally on top of his game. His wife was in the audience, and tons of friends. It must have been heartbreaking to have that guy shit on his performance and do nothing to fix it. Near the end of the set, during "Gary Floyd", I looked over and see Gibby yelling at the guy, who responds by turning all stage monitors off completely. Gibby did not hit or bottle the guy. I heard the stage manager from across the hall thought that he had, and ordered him removed. We had another song or two to play before "Shah", so we just went straight into that. Our set ends there anyway. I think the house lights didn't come on, and the audience really stuck around for more. The kids SOR kids were evacuated. I went to the Beauty Bar and felt nothing but love.'

One EP as a lion

"It's better to live one day as a lion, than a thousand years as a lamb." So reads a graffiti art inscription photographed by George Rodriguez in 1970. This inspired the name of the project, EP and title track "One Day as a Lion," billed as "a recorded interaction between Zack de la Rocha and Jon Theodore from Los Angeles, California."

In the nearly nine years since his last original album with Rage Against the Machine, Zack de la Rocha still favors subversive, high school-style poetry. Theodore, formerly of the Mars Volta and one of the world's best drummers, provides busy, propulsive rhythms that are as forefront as de la Rocha's bark. First track "Wild International" sets the tone for the album--a rap/rock song driven by a simple riff, Theodore's mighty drum fills and de la Rocha's commanding voice.

It's unclear whether Theodore or de la Rocha is helming the keyboard, which plays like an electric guitar throughout the EP. The sound is less flashy than Tom Morello or Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, but the riffs are strong enough to not need lots of solos or effects. I used to be sure that Tom Morello was the most important member of Rage Against the Machine, but when comparing this to Audioslave, I think I was wrong.

de la Rocha has never been a great singer, as heard on his on Rage's strained, surprisingly not awesome take on "Kick Out the Jams." But his tone and vigor make him a strikingly effective frontman. On One Day as a Lion he sounds as strong as he ever has, singing protest-reggae style choruses on "Ocean View" and "If You Fear Dying" that play to his singing talents better than anything else he's recorded. He also sounds more like a rapper than before, when he tended to yell or sound like an angry guy talking. His couplets flow with rhyme schemes ("In this era where DJs/behave/be paid/to be slaves/we raid/airwaves/to be sane") that his older lyrics lacked, and while his newfound smoothness comes at the expense of his eloquence, it still gets the point across.

Meanwhile, Theodore is never called on for the technical proficiency that he displayed in the Mars Volta. But without his former band's ADD instrumentation to nearly overwhelmed his percussion, Theodore's snare and crash symbol give the album it's liveliest musicianship, bridging the gap between ?uestlove and John Bonham.

The EP clocks in at 20 minutes, and the sameness of the five songs leaves it unclear as to whether the band could sustain a full album. But "too short" and "all the songs sound alike" are minor gripes, especially for an exciting new band batting 1.00 on their first release. "We'll show you what war is good for," threatens de la Rocha in the EP's final seconds, leaving us attentive and awaiting their next move.

Given both musicians' various projects, One Day as a Lion may never get around to touring or even recording ever again. If such is a case, then they certainly lived their one recording as...you know.