Chris “Shinsplints” Krovatin is the author of two young adult novels,

On February 21, I saw Deicide with Blackgaurd, Neuraxis, Pathology, and Carcinogen at Gramercy Theatre in NYC. Here’s what I saw.

First Deicide album this reporter owned: Serpents of the Light.
Number of times this reporter has seen Deicide live: Zero. This is a first for me.
Number of Deicide fans it takes to screw in a lightbulb: Go fuck yourself.
Old fuck moment: Man, we made fun of Deicide a lot back in the day for writing album after album about the same damn thing. Who knew they’d just get better?
Band playing upon arrival: Carcinogen from Long Island.
Sounds like: Pretty standard death metal.
How standard: At one point, the singer was just yelling, “YOU’LL BE…DEAD!” while swiping his hand across his throat. Like that.
Still: The lead singer’s wearing a Nile Black Seeds of Vengeance shirt. That’s cool.
Lame merch situation: Deicide appear to be mostly sold out of their only two good shirts. Lame.
What am I gonna do: Get the one with the gargoyle on it?
Deicide’s merch guy: Fattest biker you’ve ever seen.
Next we have: Pathology from San Diego.
Sounds like: Ultra-grunty gore metal with melodic interludes.
Strangest stage routine: Pathology singer Jonathan Huber stalking to one side of the stage and back with his hands down at his sides. Huh?
Hard balance to strike: When do gore metal vocals go beyond having lyrics? If this dude’s trying to actually say things, I can’t understand word one.
Counter-argument: Lots of people say that about metal, period.
Back patch of the night: The dude in the Anthrax Spreading the Disease vest. Old-school bastard.
Wait: Have I given that guy a shout-out before?
Rule of thumb for the night: Apparently the best way to worship Satan is to be an overweight scowler with a pinch-faced midget for a girlfriend.
Hey: I’m down.
Ballsiest shirt choice of the night: The guy in the Stryper shirt.
Favorite old-school Glen Benton story: Apparently, Benton sat down for a short conversation with Euronymous back before the Mayhem guitarist was murdered. The conversation was mostly Euronymous declaring metal “true” or “false” and Benton responding, “…okay.”
Favorite photo of Glen Benton: The one where he’s tripping mushrooms waving around a tricycle.
Now we have: Neuraxis from Montreal.
Sounds like: Imagine a jet engine made with rusty razor blades being fed the writhing insane.
Tech-death stage move: Three sets of hair windmilling at once, in the same direction. Amazingly choreographed.
Realization: Neuraxis frontman Alex LeBlanc seems like a really good dude. His stage banter is jolly as fuck.
Time spent setting up Blackguard’s drum kit: Fifteen, 20 minutes. Seems like forever.
Oh, fuck it: I’m sitting with the other old fucks. Oh man, that’s comfortable.
And honestly: Do I have to be standing for Blackguard?
On that note: Blackguard, also from Montreal.
Wait: Are we thinking of the same Blackguard? They’re on this tour?
Sounds like: Some pirates listened to some Soilwork? I guess. With more keyboards. So.
Bold move of the night: Blackguard vocalist Paul Zinay mouthing off at the crowd. “Dragonforce rule by the way…yeah, you and me, guy. After this.”
Come on, man: You’ve got a New York Deicide crowd trying to deal with pirate metal instead of Belphegor. Be cool.
Number of audience members witnessed wearing huge Satanic jewelry: At least ten.
Number of reporters in the photo pit for Carcinogen: Just me. It was vast.
Number of reporters in the photo pit for Deicide: No more than five. Still vast. Kind of awesome, kind of lame.
Percentage of audience ready to cut out their still-beating hearts in the name of Satan: 666%.
And now, ladies and gentlemen: Fucking Deicide from fucking Florida.
Why try? World dies! Christ hides: When Satan rules his world.
Sounds like: A massive behooved demon, mouth wide with fanged malevolence, punching through the Empire State Building and and lapping the mangled bodies and rubble off of his arm. Then he drops the grossest deuce imaginable onto St. Patrick’s Cathedral before having sex with Lady Liberty.
Number of times Glen Benton has branded an inverted cross into his forehead: Seven or eight, I think, at this point. Does it matter?
Favorite stage banter: “I’ve been told there’s a dude in a Stryper shirt wandering around the crowd…man…good luck getting home.”
Deicide is: A band’s vocalist warning an audience member that he might be murdered for liking Christian metal.
Classic of the night: “Dead By Dawn” off the self-titled debut.
New classic of the night: “Death To Jesus” off of The Stench of Redemption.
Holy shit: This is easily one of the best death metal sets I’ve ever seen.
Question of the night: Where is your God now?
First Deicide show ever: A smashing success.
To the guy in the Stryper shirt: Hope you made it out of there, dude.

Chris Krovatin is the author of the young-adult novels Heavy Metal & You and Venomous, as well as Revolvermag.com's “Final Six” blog. The latter book was the inspiration for Deadlocke, a one-shot published by Dark Horse Comics. He is also the vocalist New York sludge-metal band Flaming Tusk. Feel free to follow him on Twitter (@bloodinmystool), but honestly, it’s mostly just dick and weed jokes.

On Sunday, I went to the Gwar (left), who played with Dirge Within and Mobile Deathcamp. I brought my girlfriend with me. Here’s what happened:

Number of times I’ve seen Gwar: Three, if you include Wacken.

Decision to bring my girlfriend to the Gwar show: Poor.

Amount of time spent lost in New Jersey: Twenty minutes.

Sad truth: That’s a record low for me.

Number of warning lights that came on in my car: Four—brakes, seat belts, brake lamps warning, and battery.

Number of prayers said on the way to Starland: Three.

Approximate description of the stench of a Gwar crowd: Hot dogs made by lepers from Boozetown.

Fravorite Gwar-related term: Bohab.

First up: Mobile Deathcamp from Toledo, Ohio.

Sounds like: Hatesphere-style thrash/death played by Laurel and Hardy.

Good band promotion move by MDC frontman T: “MOBILE DEATHCAMP TOLEDO OHIO. MOBILE DEATHCAMP TOLEDO OHIO.”

Favorite post-song stage banter of the night: “Come back to the merch booth! We’re selling shirts, CDs, poorly drawn pictures, all kinds of fuckin’ cheese, string, bits of clay, you name it!”

Amount of alcohol consumed between sets: None. I have to drive, with my girlfriend in the car. Ugh.

Amount of alcohol this reporter would consume he wasn’t driving: All of it.

Awkward moment of the night: “All right, honey, I have to warn you, there might be some poo flying around tonight. And some green semen. So just, uh, be careful.”

Next up: Dirge Within from Chicago.

Prognosis: I’ve seen lamer bands with stupider hair who are worse at playing this kind of music. So yeah, they’re OK.

Crowd reaction: Absolutely rabid. These kids love some big riffy circle-pit action.

Favorite band merch: Gwar toilet seat lids.

Those are drum heads: With Gwar, though, they’re sort of the same thing.

Note to Gwar: Get rid of the neon colors on all the new shirts. Let’s get back to that old merch, all poorly drawn and covered in countless dicks.

Speaking of countless dicks: These diehard Gwar fans are some of the rudest and grossest motherfuckers I’ve ever met. It’s just one slimy, obnoxious douchebag after another.

Proud moment of the night: Watching my girlfriend get in a fight with some fat, shit-talking Jersey chick.

Number of fat, shit-talking Jersey chicks encountered on any given night at Starland Ballroom: 141.

And then: Gwar, from Antarctica.

WOW, CHRIS: YOU PLAY A MEAN GUITAR, MAN. IT’S TOO BAD…YOU MUST DIE.

Gwar’s Behind the Murder opening video: In true Gwar fashion, barely tolerable.

Things killed onstage: Mutants, gorillas, dissected space-fiends, Michael Jackson, a deformed baby, Cardinal Synn, and the dignity of the entire crowd.

Badass new track: “Metal Metal Land” off of Lust in Space.

Historical fact: Gwar invented music by stretching dinosaur guts across the grand canyon and plucking them in tune with their own rancid flatulence.

Most poetic moment of the night: Gwar front-genital Oderus Urungus raping a deformed baby with a sword while softly singing Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up.”

Favorite Gwar stage banter: “YES. BRING FORTH MICHAEL JACKSON. HE HAS CANCER OF THE BALLS. FUCK HIM.”

Colors sprayed onto my girlfriend: Green, red.

Number of hammered people getting behind the wheel post-show: All of them.

Best way to end a Gwar show in Jersey: Barely making it out alive.

Chris Krovatin is the author of the young-adult novels Heavy Metal & You and Venomous, as well as Revolvermag.com's “Final Six” blog. The latter book was the inspiration for Deadlocke, a one-shot published by Dark Horse Comics.

On Saturday, I went to a night of classic thrash and extreme metal headlined by Kreator with support from Voivod, Nachtmystium, Evile, and Lazarus A.D. Here’s what happened:

General observation of Nokia Theatre: Man, this place would do better with fewer flashing lights and more draft beers.

Awesome sight: Kreator’s name in 10-feet-tall lights over Times Square.

Last time I saw Kreator: L’Amours, with Destruction on the Hell Comes to Your Town tour. Was that 2001? 2002? I had to leave midway through “People of the Lie” or else I wouldn’t make curfew.

Number of patched-up denim vests sighted before even entering the venue: Seven.

Number of patched-up denim vests sighted upon entrance: 40,000,000.

Number of back patches viewed that featured mutants fleeing from a mushroom cloud: Six.

Favorite obscure back patches: Mantas, Pagan Altar, Y&T, and a tiger-print Overkill patch.

First band of the night: Wisconsin’s Lazarus A.D.

Thoughts: Sure, OK. No, I get it, and you guys do it well. Sure. These riffs do sound big and angry, and you play them well. Sure.

Most interesting piece of band merch available: Kreator belt buckles.

There’s not enough cool merch: All I want’s a small embroidered Endless Pain patch, and you’re offering me a $25 belt buckle? Or a $50 Voivod art book?

Point of merch knowledge to be remembered: You could get a thrash-hungry metalhead to buy a lump of dog shit if it had the cover of Endless Pain ironed onto it.

Next onstage: Evile from England.

Crowd reaction: Kids are dancing like crazy for these motherfuckers.

Best song intro by Evile frontman Matt Drake: “Are you ready for some heaviness? Some real dirty heaviness?!”

Next song: “Bathe in Blood.”

Necks: Wrecked.

Alcoholic budget tip: When purchasing concert booze, go for the Guinness tall-boy. Sure, it’s heavy and black instead of yellow and refreshing, but there’s more beer for your buck that way, and the bartenders respect it.

Now we have: Chicago’s Nachtmystium.

Name your poison: Psychedelic black metal rancor with a Floydian twist.

Frostbitten fun fact: Nachtmystium’s Assassins: Black Meddle pt. 1 was my Best Album of 2008.

Overall opinion: Definitely awesome, but they were better when they opened for Marduk.

To be expected, I guess: They had a longer set, and were playing to a crowd they knew a bit better.

My two cents: Don’t play “Ghosts of Grace” and “Life of Fire” back to back. They sound very alike, and it’s weird.

Two left: Next up, Voivod.

Personal confession: Hard as I’ve tried, I’ve never really given a shit about Voivod.

Performance thoughts: They’re…OK. Definitely focusing more on their first two albums, which are famous for being thrash throwaways. Frontman Snake is not the best dancer.

It’s the crowd: This group doesn’t want 10-minute space-jams, they want to thrash until they’re sore.

Best song played: “The Unknown Knows” from Nothingface.

Random thought: Man, Voivod songs would sound so much better if performed by Devin Townsend.

Even more random thought: As a young Canadian, did Townsend look up to the boys in Voivod as Maple Leafs who’d made it big in metal? Did he lie awake at night, clutching his copy of RRROOOAAARRR, and wonder?

And finally: Kreator, auf Deutschland.

Everyone against everyone: CHAOS.

Holy Jesus: This place filled up quick. Who knew that everyone and their mother loves Kreator this much?

Awesome backdrop: Kreator’s Demon Brain creature as the statue of liberty with pointy Capitol Building tits. Classic.

Best Kreator jams: “Endless Pain,” “Pleasure To Kill,” and the oft-overlooked “Servant in Heaven, King in Hell.”

Favorite crowd banter: “PLAY ‘BETRAYER,’ PLEASE.”

Favorite stage banter from Kreator frontman Mille Petrozza: “I want you to scream the word ‘HATE’! Louder! Scream ‘HATE’ for Kreator! SCREAM ‘HATE’ FOR KREATOR!”

Number of fliers received post-show: Six.

Closing thoughts: Oh man, if that was that nasty, the Overkill is going to be absolutely disgusting.