Enough strange variety here to scrape your ears down to the quick, like three different grains of sandpaper. A Yom Kippur purification of sorts.
Imperial Triumphant opened with their epic textural priestly beneficence, the metal barely perceptible through a screen of Zachary Ezrin's bright, dissonant guitar chords and the chthonic bass (and occasional sythesizer whoops) of Steve Blanco. Crazed tempo shifts and powerful dynamism dominated the Imperial set thanks to the deviously punishing drums of Kenny Grohowski, which cut through the murk like whipcracks. Though much of the audience reacted to the intellectual noise with puzzled amazement, final howls signaled approval.
Norway's Sylvaine is a beautiful woman with blond hair down to Denmark. She plays guitar, and can either sing like a damsel or growl like an ogre. Backed by a male guitarist, bassist and drummer, she put on an effective Druidy presentation that combined personal angst with a certain nostalgia for lost magic. Best was her interplay with the guitarist on the melodic vocals; his high tenor harmonized without getting in the way. The big electric bassist had a penetrating tone, too. Live, gotta say, the songs came off monochrome -- strummy and similar in beat. And for some reason, Sylvaine didn't act like a star. Her bandmates must enjoy that, but . . .
Zeal & Ardor, now, had all kinds o' sh*t going on. This Manuel Gagneux, an Afroed black dude originally from Switzerland, turned out to be a stump preacher, a joke Satanist, a rapper, an industrial grinder, a rocker, a funker, and it all rolled off him as if he made it up yesterday. Those musical influences and the band's clean circular logo brought on flashes of Marilyn Manson. Gagneux, though, leaned more toward a street thing; his band all came on in black hoodies (but structured, not off the rack). Gagneux soon popped the 'fro out and rocked his guitar, explaining that two of his usual seven band members were too sick to attend on this, the second-to-last date of the tour. The remainder kept up plenty of energy and variety, keeping the audience's feet moving as Gagneux ironically exhorted them to consider whether, in the wake of slavery, Baptists were making the right choice of gods, and Imperial Triumphant's Ezrin lent his robes and guitar to the final destruction. A special thing about Gagneux: big hair, dark eyes, not smiling, not accommodating . . . but somehow he's not scary. It's a gift. One of many.
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PHOTOS BY FUZZY BAROQUE.