The trip north was smooth and uneventful with the Gravehill lads. Along for the ride was our buddy Phil who would help us out tremendously with setting up gear. Particularly drums since the guy is a freaking monster when it comes to ravaging the skins. Hell Messiah's vehicle was once again our car of choice because of its spaciousness, roomy interior, smoky atmosphere and tow hitch for the trailer we were pulling behind us.
This would be one of the first Gravehill shows where we didn't use a roadie to help us load and unload gear. Now I know most underground bands lug their own shit around and set it up themselves. But we had the luxury and funds for a long period of time where we could pay and have someone set our stuff up for us. Unfortunately all of the Rites of the Pentagram royalties ran out so we were too broke to afford that expense. At least we can now do more blow and buy some tasty non-gay Chick Fil A sandwiches (Non-Gay Taste included!!).
 |
| Lugging around band gear prematurely ages you. Oh yeah, fuck you, Chick Fil A! |
Five white guys driving into the ghetto of a predominantly black Richmond neighborhood is a daunting feat. The GPS insisted that the venue was nearby but all we saw were homes with lots of iron bars on the windows and empty streets crawling with crusty kids and trash. Distinguishing between the two was a feat unto itself.
 |
| I was going to put an insulting pic of a crusty here. I opted for Gary Busey. |
We finally found the venue by putting our heads out the window and hearing the seductive lullabies of screaming thrash metal in the distance. In a nondescript building in the middle of the ghetto was the infamous Burnt Ramen. Supposedly a veteran venue for all kinds of punk, hardcore, grind, and metal shows, we found prime parking and jumped out into the cold night air. Living in Southern California, particularly near the desert like I do, you get used to certain temperatures during the Summer. Namely, it's fucking hot as balls!! So the only jacket I brought was my beat up, bloody, smelly leather jacket I use on stage. It must have been in the low 50s (probably only 70) and I was freezing! All I knew was that I needed to eat and drink.
The promoter Spike is probably one of the coolest sons of bitches I've met. A true Hessian through and through, he treated us extremely well and his enthusiasm for Gravehill is spot-on genuine. When he said there was a 30-pack of beer waiting to be imbibed, I immediately grabbed a cool brew, choked down a few slices of pizza and watched some of the opening bands.
 |
| This is a fairly accurate representation of what life is like where I live. |
Hemotoxin was already mid-set by the time we arrived and they were raging through a killer version of Morbid Angel's "Maze of Torment". Most of their originals consisted of straight up thrash and I was tappin' my foot and snapping my fingers like an Eddie Money video as they jammed. The last song was pretty long and an instrumental to boot so they kinda lost me there, but otherwise a very solid, albeit young thrash band.
 |
| Eddie's sax version of Maze of Torment ruled! |
After chatting with a few peeps, I made my way back into the main room to catch Rotten Funeral. Rotten Funeral were dirty as fuck, donning the usual black metal garb (i.e., war paint, spikes, inverted crosses, etc...), they played amongst a smattering of broken animal bones and atmospheric candles. It limited their movement quite a bit but seeing as how they stood there without so much as a nod of the head (maybe a slight bob), I doubt it was that much of an issue. They pushed through a ferocious set that I found to be extremely cult and I bought a $2 demo cd. What exactly grabbed me I couldn't tell you. I just liked it and the demo was cheap.
While the next band set up, I consumed more beer and the effects were slowly creeping in. Was that a crusty kid asleep on a table? Did a dog just nip at my leg? Why did this skater crust kid think he could almost get away with damaging Thorgrimm's drums while we were standing there watching him? And therein lies my reason for disliking a majority of crusties. They think they can get away with anything and when someone calls them out on it, they get up on some non-existent soapbox and demand some kind of respect.
 |
| I associate all crust punks with Kristin Stewart. |
I digress, next up was Blasphemous Creation (BC). Now these guys were particularly interesting. For one, their drummer quit on them the day of the show. But did that stop BC? Fuck no. They grabbed a drum machine, threw on some beats, and traveled from Reno, Nevada to Richmond, CA and played anyway! That's fuckin' metal. Second, they came dressed in armor and spikes that reminded me of a cross between Roman Centurions and Mad Max. Now the armor was definitely cool; especially decked out in large, almost foot long spikes. It reminded me of the early days of Gravehill when Abominator, ex-guitarist Zyklon, and myself donned similar ensembles. I think BC's armor would have looked even more badass if it was beat up, scarred, and bloody like ours was because during the show it looked pristine and a bit stiff. Overall though, a great band who thrashed out some blackened death metal that made my nipples slightly engorged.
 |
| OG Gravehill picture. Ah memories!! |
Pale Chalice was next but I missed the entire set as I was getting my shit ready for Gravehill. Hell Messiah and I drank outside for a bit and watched our backs for any mysterious, black tinted, Cadillacs driving around without their lights on. You never know in Richmond! I thought I heard fireworks but was later informed those "fireworks" were gunshots. Later I looked at my jacket and a bullet hole was in my sleeve! I lie. Nothing happened. Moving on...
Gravehill did the dance to a great crowd of Hessians and we pulled off another successful show. No need to go into detail because frankly, by this point I was so hammered that I can't remember every detail. I think I played well as there were a group of people watching my fretting hand trying to decipher how to play the songs. Wish they would have caught me on a sober night when I was actually playing the right notes. Ha!
Aw who am I kidding? I never have a sober night. :(
Minenwerfer were up next and honestly, I can't remember much. My drinking had accelerated dramatically up to this point and the only thing I vaguely recall is me loaning out my overdrive pedal to the bassist. I don't think I even bothered wiping the blood off my face. I sat down on some skater half-pipe covered in filth and continued to drink. Holy fuck. I BECAME A CRUSTY!!!! See? This has all the elements of a good tragedy. I became the thing I hate. Bill Shakespeare would have been proud.
 |
| Not amused. |
Last up was Hellhunter who I did manage to see as I stumbled out into the thinning venue. Hellhunter had a similar Blasphemous Creation problem with their drummer so one of the guitarists took over skin duties and they hammered away with some old school, filthy black metal and black rock and roll. I remember banging my head the most to these guys. My favorite moments were when the vocalist would intro a song and then said, "Let's go!" That's some metal shit right there!
I don't remember much after the show. I kind of just woke up still covered in filth on a couch at CC's parents house in Fremont. But all in all, I had a killer time in Richmond! We'll have to get up there again soon and rage once more.
Here are some links to the bands I mentioned. Make sure you stop by their pages and give a listen.
Hellhunter - https://www.facebook.com/
Minenwerfer - https://www.facebook.com/
Pale Chalice - https://www.facebook.com/
Blasphemous Creation - https://www.facebook.com/
Rotten Funeral - https://www.facebook.com/
Azathoth - https://www.facebook.com/
Hemotoxin - https://www.facebook.com/
