Goregon Massacre Fest III: 2012

It's weird how writing sometimes seems like a chore and at other times is quite an enjoyable experience. The roughest part is where do you start? What kind of introduction do you want to grab people with and hopefully lure them into a false sense of security so that they think they are about to read a professional, thought-provoking piece on metal music, concert critiques, or the secret life of Gravehill's Hell Messiah and his obsession with homemade scented candles? It's not as easy as it looks; but luckily I just did it and thus I feel like I have accomplished at least one thing today.

Hell Messiah's obsession with urinals and candles is frightening.

The Goregon Massacre Fest III: 2012 was held in Portland, OR on June 22nd and 23rd and the ladies in the Gravehill camp were chuffed to play it. Our plan was to do a mini west coast tour with our brothers in Destroyed in Seconds (DIS) where we would hit San Francisco, Portland (for the fest), and then back down south to Oakland for a final show. But of course, nothing exactly goes to plan for Gravehill.

It turned out that of the 11 people in my group at my "regular" job, 5 of them decided to take vacation the same week as the fest and all of them asked for it way in advance of me. I mean, as soon as these fuckwits got off of Xmas vacation in December, they immediately put in for Summer vacation. So this meant that I got the figurative vacation shaft up my poophole and couldn't take off, even for a couple of days. At the time, I was furious and I was about to tell my job where to shove it but then came to my senses after a few bumps of blow. Coke really makes you focus on what is important. What was important was that if I was going to fight for time off to go on tour and play shows, it better be worth it if I was risking sudden unemployment. The guys were a bit annoyed (as they rightfully should have been) but luckily we had an "ace-in-the-hole" with Bodybag.

Bodybag: Ex-Gravehill Guitarist/Current Exhumed Bassist. I couldn't find a better pic in my archives.

Bodybag had been on tour with Exhumed for a couple of months and was back briefly before he had to take off again. If anyone knew the riffs to Gravehill songs it was him and he had two pluses going for him. One, he's a beer-swilling, rape maniac who has been playing bass in Exhumed for about a year now and two, he knew the songs and can play bass ten times better than me. Needless to say, most anyone with a fundamental knowledge of music can play bass better than me but instead of hiring an 11th Grade band major, the Gravehill camp opted for one of our own. Bodybag covered for me in San Francisco on Thursday night and I'm glad he was there to take up the slack. I owe him many beers and besos!!

Possible Corpsemolester replacement.

So what the fuck did I do? Well, since I couldn't get the days off to drive up to Portland, I had to fly up. I bought a one-way ticket through Southwest and flew up to Oregon on Saturday, the day of the fest. I arrived with no problems and since I only had my handy man-bag with me (IT'S NOT A PURSE!!), I was traveling very light. Portland has excellent public transportation so instead of opting for an expensive cab, I bought a $2.00 light rail ticket and got off at a station that was only a 10 minute walk from the venue. I'm all about the cheap!

I walked into the venue and was greeted with various cries of joy and relief that I had arrived safely. You know how it is, "It's about time you got here, FAG!", "Nice purse asshole! Did you pick that up at Victoria's Secret along with your see-through panties.", "Hey, look who decided to join us. Mr. 'I'm-too-good-to-drive-up-with-the-rest-of-us Corpsemolester!" It was a very emotional day. Lots of crying and hugging.

We're very emotional.

The fest was pretty damn busy and I wanted to start drinking like, IMMEDIATELY. So I threw on my cool as fuck leather jacket, slathered on some eye shadow, feathered my bangs, and scooted up to the bar and ordered a local craft beer. After a few of those I eventually resorted to the cheapest brew available which was PBR because, if anything, I'm a pretty cheap bastard and as much as I like craft beer, I'm perfectly fine with the cheap stuff as well. After chatting it up for a bit with the Gravehill crew, a few local friends, and some of the fellas in Cardiac Arrest, I went to go check out some of the bands and to have a vegan gyro.

The bands I caught and who stood out were Heavy Voodoo, Bone Sickness, Mutant Supremacy, Coffin Dust, Blood Freak, and of course Cardiac Arrest. All of these bands flattened my face and pummeled my guts into mush. Now Blood Freak and Bone Sickness I had seen before and they always deliver the goods. But the east coasters (I believe they are anyway) Mutant Supremacy and Coffin Dust had me caught up in their thrashy as fuck hooks and technical proficiency. I've been kicking myself since Goregon that I didn't grab some merch. Luckily Gravehill will be seeing them again when we play a fest in New York come October (I think).
 

This is a random kitty photo I thought was funny.

So I guess I should mention at this point that Cianide had dropped off the bill due to a set of unfortunate events. The stars didn't align for them and so Gravehill was pushed to headlining status. Now Gravehill headlining anything is always a crap shoot. Sometimes it's a home run and at others it can be a bit dismal. We're not a high profile band like Exhumed so our crowd draw can be weird at times. Don't get me wrong. Even if the crowd is made up of a few people, those few people are die-hard Gravehill fans (or fans of good old fashioned death metal at least) and we always have a good time. But I don't think it's necessarily an incorrect reaction when promoters tell us that we're headlining and we have a little apprehension.

The crowd was thinning a bit but that's too be expected as it was pushing after 1:00 A.M. We got ready in our usual manner of spitting blood on each other and giving back massages (CC is the best at those) and we took the stage around 1:20 A.M. Now to me, the crowd looked pretty good. Of course it was dark and everyone I saw was up front but still, a better draw than I thought it would be. The stage was extremely small and I had the unfortunate place right behind Mike Abominator. During every one of his screeches, a hellish "silent-but-violent" chemical cloud of nausea-inducing fart stank assaulted my nostrils. This cloud would creep back to Thorgrimm as he dropped a drumstick twice!! The crowd raged, sang along, crowd-surfed, moshed, and proceeded to "out metal" us on stage. Portland knows how to fucking kill! Someone offered me chips during one of Abominator's ill-timed awesome jokes and Hell Messiah spat a big lugie of blood into my face effectively welcoming me back into the fold after not being able to play in San Francisco. What a great show with chants of "one more song" after we had already bulled through 10 fist bangers! Gravehill has always had a home in Portland and those guys welcomed us back with open, bloody arms!

You can see my hair being blown back from a massive Abominator fart.

Many thanks to Brandon and Jason and whoever else helped in organizing this awesome fest and treating Gravehill and the rest of the bands in such a professional manner. YOU ROCK!! Next time we see you, CC is gonna give you the most erotic massages EVAR!

Links to awesomesauce and more sweet sexy pics below:

https://www.facebook.com/bonesickness

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mutant-Supremacy/121440554551204

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Official-Blood-Freak/130816076957363

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cardiac-Arrest-US/92250701414?ref=ts

https://www.facebook.com/CoffinDust

Cool Lovecraft-themed bar just a block down from the venue!!

Members of DIS, Cardiac Arrest, Blood Freak, and Gravehill acting the fool.

Trying hard not to be sexy and failing.

The initial blood spattering went well.

Thorgrimm and I playing "Trolls Under The Stairs".

I give this latest blog post a Corpsie-approved thumbs up!!

Recording When All Roads Lead to Hell: Part 3

As is often the case, I rarely complete anything I start such as blog posts and video games. In both cases, it’s just because I’m both lazy and get bored quickly. So in an effort to finally finish up writing about the recording of WAR (which all two of you read), I’m going to try and probe the deep recesses of my drug-addled, alcohol-deteriorated grey matter and finish this fucker. Then right after I’m going to play L.A. Noire on Xbox. But in all honesty, it bores me thinking about it...

So Saturday rolls around and I record my bass tracks. I remember a bucket of chicken, a prostitute, and an uneasy feeling of dread that I may have the Clap. Some of these memories are false, I just know it. Kinda like the false memories those creepy altar boys have of a priest molesting them. You know that’s bullshit!!

I digress. I thought I’d be able to knock out the bass tracks quickly but lo’ and behold, something sounds fishy. The tuning is off slightly and it’s noticeable enough that it drives Haddad insane as he keeps playing back tracks telling Bodybag and me that something’s not right. Turns out it’s an intonation problem...plus I was playing the wrong notes! Hahahaha No one’s ever called us a professional band so why start now? I will defend myself on the wrong notes thing though. Turns out Bodybag made some last minute riff adjustments and neglected to tell me about it. I recovered quickly and the bass tracks were complete in a few hours. I’m not really one for show or flair when it comes to bass. 90 percent of the time I’m just providing a low-end rumble so the guitars can work their magic. It’s more of a workman-like attitude instead of artistic. Going back and listening to the finished product today, I wish I could go and rerecord some parts with a tad bit more flair. Hindsight is...ah well, you know the rest.

Several days later Abominator started his vocal tracks. Except this time he wasn’t drunk and he doesn’t smoke anymore so all the vile, yellow, chunky phlegm that used to come up every time he would record or do a show is gone. He has the voice like a choir of angels! For a while there it seemed that we were recording a Power Metal album as he hit some high notes that would put his favorite band Hammerfall to shame. We eventually had to persuade Abominator that Gravehill was still, technically, a Death/Thrash Metal band and he should just stick to what we practiced. So he jumped to his usual gravelly-edged vocal pattern and completed the songs within a couple of hours. Thorgrimm, Hellfiend, and myself did some backing “gang bang” vocals and the raw recording process was pretty much finished. Hmmm...it IS “gang bang” vocals correct? Why does that not sound right...?

Thorgrimm and Bodybag were planning on traveling to Ryan Butler’s (Landmine Marathon) pad in Arizona to put a spit-shine polish on the tracks. Abominator and I had to work and Hellfiend was too busy fondling freshly grown fruit to attend the epic mastering session. But with the advances in technology, we got to hear most of the rough cuts.

I should add that my attempt at putting together the sound samples you hear on the album was a complete failure. Luckily some of the samples were salvaged while most were chucked. Oh well, que sera sera! THE END!!

Recording When All Roads Lead to Hell: Part 1

After almost a year and a half since the release of Rites of the Pentagram (ROTP), the long road to Hell we have paved is finally reaching its destination. Gravehill entered John Haddad’s Trench Studios in Corona, CA for drum tracking on February 1, 2011 and already we can smell the fire and brimstone boiling underneath our cloven feet. At least my feet are cloven. Birth defects are a bitch. To all you pregnant moms out there, don’t do crack until AFTER your kid is born.

ROTP was officially released in the summer of 2009 and writing for When All Roads Lead to Hell (WAR) began soon after. But the Gravehill writing process is a slow beast at times. Many a day was spent staring at the walls, eating sticks of butter, or mumbling about why our hemorrhoids didn’t go away. Eventually we broke through our stupor and began writing but it was still slow progress. Recording was going to happen in early 2010 but by the time early 2010 arrived, we had maybe three complete songs and the skeleton of another. So recording was pushed back until the late summer but by the time we were off tour in July, perhaps only 3/4 of the album had been written. So recording was pushed to early December 2010. As December loomed and we still weren’t ready, recording was pushed back again to January of 2011.

But then inspiration hit Gravehill for once and the skies cracked open, the seas boiled over, and blood ran freely over the chests of young (female, 18+), nubile, dead hookers and suddenly we were writing. Shit was flowing free; songs we thought were done, were recast and chiseled down. One of the first songs we wrote in the beginning was completely thrown out but another, stronger one was written off the cuff and suddenly we had a complete album. What the hell happened?

Whatever happened, we’re back at it in the studio again. Drum tracking took two days and Thorgrimm was done. Guitar tracking started on February 8, and Bodybag and Hellfiend have been ripping it up. One of the major differences this time around probably is that most of us have been sober during recording! ROTP is a gritty fucking album. You can hear our drunken debauchery jump out and soak you in cheap Mexican beer. But WAR is turning out to be something different. Yes, the raw intensity is still there but it is more focused and a slight evolution to ROTP. The more I hear the raw guitar tracks thrashing over the “in your face and up your ass” drums, the more my taint tingles. We’re certainly not recreating the wheel here. There will be riffs and sections of songs that will have you thinking, “Oh shit, someone was thinking of Slayer when they wrote this.” Or just replace Slayer with Sodom, Celtic Frost, Autopsy, or Death. Hell, you may even hear some Darkthrone and Bathory as well. Whatever you hear, even if you don’t like it (or think ROTP was a superior album), WAR is coming from a pure place where posers are butchered before the hordes of the real Hessians! We will never compromise!! Unless we’re offered a bunch of money, then DUH!

Murderfest in L.A. on 4/18/08

I figured I'd give a low down on my recent concert experience.

Murderfest is one of those fests that is similar to other fests scattered about the United States like CIM, Michigan Death Fest, MDF, etc... I believe this was the second or third year it was held and it was completely sold out.

The day started early as "The Gore Crew" assembled at my friend Bob's house. Our plan was to leave around 12:30 PM, head into Los Angeles, and grab a bite to eat at this popular Armenian restaurant. Three of us were at the pad and we were waiting around for three more that eventually showed up 30 minutes late. Our driver, Septi-Gore Erik was a little annoyed but we persevered and wound up on the road a little after 1:00 PM.

About an hour later we were in downtown Los Angeles and eating at this hole-in-the-wall restaurant. Around this time my muscle relaxer started kicking in. I had really strained myself at the gym a day or so previously and figured some expired muscle relaxers from the bowels of my medicine cabinet would help the pain. Well it did a little, but I almost fell asleep in my falafel. The beer didn't help either.

Anyhoo, we arrived at the Knitting Factory in Hollywood (Mann's Chinese Theater is only about a block away) and parked in this awesome underground garage filled with metal heads and startled Asian tourists running the opposite direction. At the entrance to the venue, we met up with some more friends that we knew from Orange County and L.A. and our group of six swelled to about 15. Our small Gore Crew was turning into a Metal Horde!

After pounding fists, doing some "bro" hugs, and slapping asses we finally inched our way into the club. The Knitting Factory is a dark sweat box folks. Luckily it wasn't too bad since the weather was mild, but later on as people started piling inside, it was like this one big sweaty human sauna filled with the exotic smells of beer, vomit, and body odor. There were merch booths set up all over the place but unfortunately I had spent a majority of my cold hard cash on food and a ticket so couldn't buy anything. There was a lot of treasure there and we were all salivating over the vinyl, cds, shirts, and patches that were for sale.

I wiggled my way out of the merch room and made my way to the main stage to watch my buds from the group Gravehill begin their set. They do old school death metal, spit blood, and are covered in spikes which made watching them even more interesting. A word of warning just in case anyone catches this group: don't stand too far up front or you'll get a face full of theatrical blood. On their final tune they were joined by Kam Lee of Massacre fame and he helped belt out some grunts and growls OG style.

As the day wore on, some of the more local bands didn't make that much of an impression on me. I remember some memorable stuff from Abysmal Dawn and Epicedium though so it wasn't a total loss. Really, I was waiting for later that night when the major hitters would be out in force.

So by the late afternoon, a lot of people were liquored up, the club was filling up, and my pain started coming back. More in my back because there wasn't a place to sit which annoys the hell out of me about that place. Sometimes I'd just sit against the wall in misery until the next band came out. Denial Fiend jumped out in a fury of metal as Kam Lee once again took the stage with his new band. They were pretty ferocious but by the end, I'll honestly say that a lot of the material was forgettable. A one-off Morgion set took stage and delivered a slow, doom-death vibe which was cool but was missing something...oh yeah, the original members. Who the hell were those guys up there anyway??

I kicked myself because I had to step outside and take a breather and all the while Impaled were ravaging the audience on the front stage. I don't consider it that big of a loss though since I've seen them before and they'll more than likely be around here again. While outside taking my breather, I ran into a number of other people I knew and we chatted up metal, smoked, joked, and all around had a drunken "I love you, man!" session with the smell of Mary-J floating in the wind. Good times!

I went back in and caught the classic Monstrosity from Florida which definitely brought back memories for me. Very nostalgic to see some of these old bands. Next up was Anal Blast which were frickin' horrible. After their first obnoxious tune, I decided to step out again and catch another breath of fresh air.

As I stepped outside this time, the fire alarm went off. A high pitch wailing that had some people on their knees. Luckily I had earplugs. Hah! Suckers. Security finally shut the alarm off and not a minute later, a big bouncer is dragging my drunken friend out of the club, and onto the sidewalk. The bouncer proceeds to rip the entrance wrist-bands off of his arm and throws him out! We all stood there in amazement as our Gore Crew pal weaved his way down Hollywood Boulevard screaming "f*** YOU!!!" We learned that, in a frenzy of unadulterated metal while watching Vital Remains on the front stage, HE was the one who had pulled the fire alarm!

On the main stage, Kam Lee once again took the stage with Massacre. They crushed of course and the pit spawned many a fight which abruptly turned into love fests as the testosterone settled. One minute guys wanted to kill each other and the next they were hugging. Metal does crazy s*** to people I guess. Or could it be the booze? Hmmmm...

Entombed headlined and I remember bits and pieces because by this point I was in physical pain, popping pain meds, and wandering around in a drug-addled haze feeling up breasts. Unfortunately some of those breasts were big fat Hispanic dudes who didn't like to be touched. I told them they looked like big fat Hispanic chicks which didn't go over well and it was agreed that our night should end after only a few Entombed songs. Luckily I got to hear a couple from Clandestine and Left Hand Path which was all that mattered to me.

There was still another day of this damn thing and I wanted to see Extreme Noise Terror, Ghoul, Cardiac Arrest, and Today is the Day, but Sunday was total recovery for me. I was dead to the world.

All in all, it was a pretty good damn time. Good music, friends, beer, and drama! Who can ask for anything more??

EDIT: I forgot to mention I saw Repulsion nestled in there somewhere.

In the Works: Fratricide Demo

There once were two metalheads who met by chance in the military. Both were into death and black metal and both were relieved that there were other "heads" in the Army. Being surrounded by constant barrages of rap, hip-hop, r&b, country music, and shitty alternative rock, it's a wonder that neither of these two individuals committed "fratricide" on their fellow soldiers during this time period.

Fratricide is the black metal brainchild of Rob Gaines (aka Hellfire Helviti) and moi (Coaxial "Coax" Helviti). In all actuality, it was Rob's idea. His experience ranged from great vocal prowess in several Ohio death metal groups as well as some good guitar abilities. He knew I played guitar and approached me one evening about starting a black metal "group." Starting any kind of band while serving in the military is virtually impossible so our "group" pretty much consisted of he and I. It was his idea to create this fantastic militaristic image of black SWAT fatigues complete with name tapes of the group and our respective stage names. But his most original idea was changing the traditional corpse paint of standard black metal fair to black and green. Those who know me have already seen these pictures and I will post them up later.

So we had a name and look, all we needed was music! I lived in a very small barracks room designed for one person. Space was limited but that didn't stop me from plugging in the guitar and wailing for days, trying to come up with Fratricide's sound. Rob came over anxious to see if I had come up with anything. At the time he didn't have a guitar rig so I was pretty much the primary music writer. I played him some riffs along with a drum machine I had. He immediately sat down and started writing lyrics. This was Rob's talent. Not only does this guy have a powerful set of vox on him, but he's an extremely talented lyric writer. What he produced was Bastards of the Battlefield. To this day I think this song has some of the most evil and powerful lyrics I have every seen or heard. I may be slightly biased though, but these lyrics are fucking brutal.

Rob and I were couped up in my barracks room for a couple of nights arranging the music for Bastards of the Battlefield. From searching the still fledgling Internet for sound clips to setting up the drum machine, bass, guitars, and vox to patch through my sad little 4-track recorder. We recorded several versions of Bastards... and finally settled with the one you can hear on our MySpace profile (visit http://www.myspace.com/fratricidemetal). During this time period, Rob and I also wrote two other dynamic songs called Prayers for an Apocalypse and Attention to Orders which we sat down and painstakingly wrote out.

But then the bad news came, Rob was leaving the Army and moving back to Ohio. It seemed as if what was destined to be the ultimate kvlt black metal would just fade back into the night. But he and I kept in touch and I continued to write. A song called Schwerpunkt was developed but the recording didn't turn out that well and frankly, it was a disorganized disaster. This was my first time writing Fratricide material without the other half of Fratricide! I still sent it on to Rob who then proceeded to write lyrics for it.

After wallowing in several cases of beer, I decided to jump back on the horse after several months. Inspiration hit after a visit to a Chinese restaurant. I opened a fortune cookie and the title of a song was staring me in the face, "No One Conquers Who Doesn't Fight". To me, that sounded war like and I'm guessing the actual fortune can be interpreted in several ways. I took it as "You will never conquer anything unless you actively stand up and fight." It affected me on numerous levels. On my way home, riff ideas were rushing through my head and that night I created the actual song No One Conquers Who Doesn't Fight. This was the song that made up for the travesty of Schwerpunkt and also reignited the Fratricide fire. After recording, I forwarded it on to Rob for lyrics.

Fast forward 8 years later (give or take a few months). I've kept Fratricide's spirit alive in various forms. From comedy, to small demos of our 4-track recordings, to websites. Rob and I are communicating once again after a long hiatus and we have decided to pursue and finish what we started so long ago.

Already he is practicing with session musicians in Ohio and I am building my strength back up on guitar. He has a recording studio, photo shoot, and all manner of things set-up. I've seen video of a practice session of Rob and the session drummer, Kellum (I believe that's his name) rocking out to Prayers for an Apocalypse and it sent chills down my spine. It looks like Rob has pulled together some extremely professional musicians and that's refreshing. Out of everything that's coming up with this demo, that's what I worry about the most. I'm hoping I can even keep with their caliber of expertise. We still haven't set a recording date but I hope it's soon.