Live Report: The Black Dahlia Murder With All Shall Perish, Cannabis Corpse
Chris Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels, Heavy Metal & You and Venomous. He is currently working on multiple new writing projects, as well as new material with his local New York metal band Flaming Tusk. He is a contributing writer for Revolver and generally comes off as a good-natured pain in everyone’s collective ass.
On Tuesday, October 11, I saw the Black Dahlia Murder, with All Shall Perish and Cannabis Corpse at The Knitting Factory, in Brooklyn, NY. Here's what I witnessed:
Age requirement of the Knitting Factory according to posted signs: 21+.
Percentage of the Black Dahlia Murder’s fans who can’t legally drink: Approx. 43%.
General crowd temperament upon arrival: Aimless, stoned.
Price of a Red Stripe at the Knitting Factory: $6.
Personal ban on drinking: In effect. Went a little overboard at the Rwake/Hull show last night.
Best backpatch of the night: The kvlt-ish Turbonegro patch on the dude with the ponytail.
Questionable costume choice of the night: The dude in the green spiky foam suit crawling with what look like rubber worms.
What the fuck’s he supposed to be: A bleeding pineapple?
To begin: Cannabis Corpse from Richmond, VA.
Sounds like: Churning old-school brutal death metal, all of which is weed-themed.
Crowd favorite: “Blunted At Birth.”
Favorite stage banter: “Who here’s high? All right! And if you’ve never tried weed, try it for the first time tonight!”
Oh, I get it: The dude in the costume is a giant moshing weed bud! Those are red hairs! Man, that’s awesome. That is tits on a beer.
Shame of the night: There’s no band-themed pot paraphernalia! I would’ve totally bought a Cannabis Corpse bong or grinder!
Number of minutes after the first set that I buy a beer: .0034
Number of times a minute the guy next to me at the bar bounces: 37.
Information I receive from said guy: “Man, I want to get in the pit, but I broke my jaw a couple of years ago, and I got metal plates in there, and if I get hit…”
Then what: “See, I DON’T KNOW, man. Either it hurts their fucking hand or my whole jaw crumbles, but I really DON’T KNOW!”
Prayer of the night: Oh Metal Gods, powerful and magical, do not let this man’s jaw crumble if hit in the mosh pit, but let instead his attacker’s hands shatter against his metal-plated face.
Next up: All Shall Perish from Oakland, CA.
Sounds like: Chugging hardcore with a huge dose of death metal brutality.
Isn’t that ‘deathcore’: I’m too old to be using words like that.
Crowd response: Karate kicks.
Person I hate more than anyone now: This tall Ichabod Crane-looking emo fucker who keeps elbowing me and leaping in the air like a ballet dancer.
All Shall Perish’s general opinion of a Brooklyn crowd: Poor.
Number of times lead singer Hernan Hermida asks the crowd to wake the fuck up: Five.
Number of busty scene chicks I ogle from the bar: Three.
Number of them that shoot me an approving eye back: One.
Oh wait: I think she just had gas.
Number of members of the opening bands present in the crowd after their set: All of them.
General crowd atmosphere as the Black Dahlia Murder prepare to take the stage: Rambunctious, diabolical, stoned.
Finally: The Black Dahlia Murder from Detroit, MI.
Sounds like: Ultra-moshable melodic horror death metal.
Awesome opener: “A Shrine To Madness,” my favorite new song about Halloween.
Awesome fact: Even in cynical-ass Williamsburg in a small indie venue, the Black Dahlia Murder can make a crowd go absolutely batshit crazy.
Crazy appearance change among the band: Guitarist Brain Eschbach with his close-cropped hair.
But really: Who the fuck notices shit like that other than you?
Crowd favorites: “Necropolis,” “I Will Return.”
Best new track: The ultra-short “Den Of The Picquarist.”
Favorite stage banter: “RUN AROUND IN A CIRCLE!”
Songs I wish they’d played: “Deathmask Divine,” “The Grave Robber’s Work.”
Number of beers consumed: Five.
Number of dugout hits taken on the way home: Six.
Nights like these: You’re proud to be a metalhead.