Metalocalypse Hits Vancouver

Pictured: Brendon Small of Dethklok

"What the hell are you doing?", she asks me, still giving me the "look".  Maybe it's too early in the morning for these antics, particularly for our two cats, who've long since fled my proximity and are nervously peering at me from their respective safe spots. 

I calmly explain: "Uh....that's the Duncan Hills Coffee jingle.  You know, the one that Dethklok played-the ONLY song they played-for 300,000 fans who hiked hundreds of miles into the Arctic Circle a few years ago?  Where all those people died, and their chef was hit by an RPG and was thrown into the blades of their heli...er...Hatredcopter, and they sewed him back together so he could make them a sandwich because they can't cook?"

Cold.  Blank.  Stare.  She must've missed that.

As I windmill my invisible metal hair and launch into the second verse of the Duncan Hills Coffee jingle, a blob of smoked salmon cream cheese and bagel flies from my mouth and lands on the table. 

The "look" turns to icy exasperation.  I should probably go to work now.

Maybe you, dear reader, might know what I'm talking about.   If not, please allow me to explain:

Dethklok are a fictional cartoon band from the wildly successful animated series "Metalocalypse".  They are a bumbling, ignorant cast of corpse-paint-wearing fools who fail at every aspect of life, but are death metal musicians of the highest calibre.  The mad genius behind this series is a guy named Brendon Small, who looks more like a sociopathic CEO than a death metal musician/voice actor, and co-creator Tommy Blacha, who also voices several characters in the series. Blacha assumes a more creative role in the "Dethklok" world, but it's Small who has brought his musical background and surrounded himself with some of the premiere musicians on the planet.  A gander at the  Metalocalypse cameo list reveals guest appearances by Dave Mustaine and Marty Friedman of Megadeth, Kirk Hammett and James Hetfield of Metallica, Mike Patton of Faith No More and Mr. Bungle, Devin Townsend and Gene Hoglan of Vancouver's own Strapping Young Lad, and Frank Zappa alumnus Mike Kenneally, to name a few.  Kenneally and Hoglan would ultimately end up as permanent members of the "live" touring band.

Where "comedy metal" bands like GWAR, Spinal Tap, and Green Jelly took metal's self-realization of its chest-thumping stupidity and deserved mockery to new heights, Dethklok/Metalocalypse kicked the door down, ate your cat, toilet-papered your house,  and brought death metal to mainstream consciousness with one of the most brilliant musical subterfuges of our time.  I mean, back in my day, we had Barbie and The Rockers and Jem and The Holograms.  JEM!  SHE'S TRULY OUTRAGEOUS!  No fair!

Now we have a truly funny, post-ironic cartoon death metal band that sings about murder by mermaids, pulling the plug on sick hospital patients, and murderous coffee jingles, backed by 3D video games, outrageous merch, the most successful cartoon network on TV, and guest cameos by the top metal musicians of our time?  You damn kids and your damn awesome stuff now.  If the current trend in exponential cultural self-realization is any indication of the shape of entertainment, and logically following, technology, to come, then make with that time machine already, Jeremy: I want to go back to 1986 and punch it in the face.

(deep breath)

Say...do you wanna know how the gig was?

Okay, I can do that. Just don't give me the stare, cuz I'm beyond that now.

High On Fire:  in a word, crushing. 

Pictured: Matt Pike of High On Fire

It's gotta suck to be one of Rolling Stones magazine's top ten guitar gods, and still be the first band at 6:30 on a Sunday night to a minimal audience.  With the exception of a hundred or so early birds at the front of the stage, Pike and co. had all the energy and intensity of a headling arena band, but did little to convince the remainder of the crowd to leave their seats.  When these guys toured with Maryland-based "stoner-rockers" Clutch a few years ago, they nearly stole the show, and left many fans with a life-long lesson to wear earplugs to rock shows.  Without the benefit of familiarity of their albums, I was struggling to hear vocals or really appreciate what they were doing.  The three-second reverb delay from the natural acoustics of the Orpheum did not help.  Perhaps the folks in the balcony may have had a better sonic experience than I, but with the guitars/bass panned hard right/left, and no PA bins in the middle to boost the vocals, I couldn't hear a thing.  That said, I've put their latest release "Death Is This Communion" on steady rotation on my iPod, and am stabbing myself for not having clued into them sooner. I would also like to contribute, at my earliest convenience, my meager wages to see these guys in a smaller venue with more direct sound.  High On Fire are metal intensity at its finest and do not translate well to airy rooms like the Orpheum.

Converge: in a word, chaotic.

Pictured: Jacob Bannon of Converge

With what can only be compared to a Dillinger Escape Plan without the shredding solos, Converge brought their vast catalog down to a refined 45-minute session of intense, post-punk hardcore madness. Singer Jacob Bannon, while visually intense, was also unfortunately buried in the mix (at least up front, anyway), but was by far the most energetic and crowd-engaging performer of the night.  With a vocal style and stage presence reminiscent of David Yow (Jesus Lizard) and afforementioned Dillinger Escape Plan's Greg Puciato, Bannon took advantage of every square inch of the Orpheum stage and put the PA and his body to the limit.  Despite the vocal mix woes, the musicianship of the band was felt to the bones.  The term "mathcore" is oft mentioned to describe Converge, and is a fitting description.  Multiple time signatures within songs, crushing grooves-turned-blast-beats, and a hyperkinetic frontman combined to make this an entertaining, albeit confusing set.  I'll be looking for the "Axe To Fall", due for release Oct. 20.

Mastodon: in a word, thunderous.

Pictured: Troy Sanders of Mastodon

Mastodon exploded onto the metal scene a few years back with their breakthrough epic "Leviathan", a concept album based around the tale of Moby Dick and Captain Ahab's totally metal obsession with killing the white whale.  Since then, they have expanded their horizons beyond all expecatations and have released two equally brilliant albums that combine complex arrangements, intricate guitars, lyrics about all manners of mythical beasts, and booming, if not terrifying vocals-a task shared by bassist Troy Sanders and guitarist Brent Hinds.

 Interestingly enough, the band met at a High On Fire show in '99.  Now, ten years and four albums later, they are possibly one of the most important and influential bands in metal, going from touring the club circuit (again, with Clutch), to a world tour supporting Metallica, with a Grammy nomination along the way.  I have to admit, I'm still trying to wrap my head around "Leviathan" (their second album): Mastodon could be described as a hybrid of Slayer, Tool, and Rush: epic songs with little hooks that take more than a casual listen to truly appreciate.  For this outing with Dethklok (many will argue that Mastodon should have headlined), they took full advantage of Dethklok's video projection screen-a 96,000-pixel behemoth-and provided a stunning backdrop video montage of old black and white movies with animated renderings of their equally stunning album artwork, interspersed with some trippy "flying through the cosmos"-type animations.  Without a word to the audience for the entire set, they proved just how and why they became as dominant and respected as they are today, as they took an unusual step and played their latest release "Crack The Skye" in its entirety, with a couple tracks from "Blood Mountain" tacked onto the end to seemingly fill the time. 

Granted, "Crack The Skye" is an amazing, epic album that proves you don't need to use speed as tool of heaviness, but I was really hoping to hear something from "Leviathan", particularly "Blood and Thunder".  When one of the roadies ran out with an extra mic stand, my heart jumped, expecting a possible guest vocal appearance (Neil Fallon, perhaps?), but as it turns out, they were just trying to sort out the continuing sound problems that had been plaguing them throughout their set.  Great band, great show, great concept, but I was still a little disappointed not to hear the songs that got me into them in the first place.

Between Mastodon and Dethklok's set, I stepped out to the balcony for some air and was immediately engaged in a conversation with an Alex Jones info-warrior.  Did you know that the world is controlled by a dark, evil entity that cares little for humanity, and is using music, television, food, drugs, and water to control our minds?  I did.  Apparently I didn't know enough, and I am doomed to be a casualty of the Illuminati.  Damn.  On that note...

Dethklok: in a word: flawless.

Pictured: Mike Keneally of Dethklok

Wow.

Brendon Small is obviously as obsessive about his production crew as he is about his music.  From the moment Dethklok's show began with an animated intro featuring the Tribunal's latest sinister plot to destroy Dethklok, it was apparent that there was some world-class production skills in the house.   Small and co. opted out of the spotlight and left the visuals to the perfectly-synched animations (which provided helpful lyrics and brilliant visual cues) on the video screen.  As there is a running theme between the band and the ongoing sinister Tribunal plot, I won't give too many details away about the set list.  However, there are moments in the Dethklok show that are just too absurd not to share:  picture yourself in a mosh pit, surrounded by hundreds of metalheads screaming along as Dethklok (the animated version), plays in underwater tubes while observing a Satanic sea monkey slaughter a school of mermaids, providing a checklist of weapons you will need to bring to a mermaid fight:

Swords? Check.
Saws? Check.
Clubs? Check.
Claws? Check.
Hatred? Check.
Anger? Check.
Mermaid? Check.
Murder? Check.


This, and the "Duncan Hills Coffee" jingle, had me howling, as the crowd around me bellowed the lyrics in my ear, without a trace of irony.  With the megalithic video screen featuring over-the-top violence and XXX graphics, this show was at times hilariously corny, albeit intentionally.  Combine the hilarity of the animated band with the intensity and ultimately awesome musicianship of Small & Co, and you got yourself one helluva wild, entertaining ride.  Dethklok has raised the bar.

The term "Apocalypse" has been twisted and misused to mean the "end of the world".  In fact, it means quite the opposite.  Bring on the Metalocalypse!

 Season 3 of Metalocalypse begins November 8, with 10 all new 30-minute episodes!!!