Soren/Wreck & Reference/Dysrhythmia – St. Vitus Bar – 1.5.13 Soren/Wreck & Reference/Dysrhythmia – St. Vitus Bar – 1.5.13

The problem I’m having is that I keep referring to this gig as a metal show. It isn’t. At least, it isn’t metal in the good old fashioned hair-whipped, devil-horned, “give the beast some ale before I give your face a fist” communal roar and shredding leather fest I like to think of when I count all the reasons in a given day I don’t give the river a kiss. But that notion’s antiquated, isn’t it? Sure, there are bands that still play the anthemic thrash and pure rock fury but their ranks are few and far between and – to be perfectly frank – often pretty goddamn uninteresting*.

So where does that leave me?

At an experimental show, I guess? Doomin’ gloom electronica? Post…um…

Shit, I don’t know but I feel underdressed.

The first act I catch is Soren, a paper wraith dressed in meta Salem in Flashdance on dopesickness black, who performs his entire set – hair in face – rocking gently over synthesizers and sequencers. Let’s call his efforts Thorazine dance. He isn’t bad. Actually, he plays the kind of music tailor fit for inactive listening which I’ve been something of a fan of lately since I’ve decided life is better spent rereading high school journal entries and plumbing the depths of 70s snuff porn than making friends and influencing people.

Sort of.

Wreck & Reference play next and I’m actually excited as shit to see them. No Youth was, by far, one of the best heavy records to come out last year and led the good Kap’n and I to join disgruntled forces to create the erratic anomaly known as Tin Wyrm. Live, they’re surprisingly interesting – a dichotomy of metal maniac and villainous facial-haired dark electro preppie. A bit dramatic, at times, for my tastes (I seem to have forgotten all about the inclusion of spoken word in their otherwise screeching cannon) but generally determined to show the world that one man screaming with a sequencer strapped to his chest (provided a suitably savage as fuck manimal drummer) can kick your teeth in better than any dick bag in corpse paint. I wouldn’t call it refreshing but, goddamn, it was intense. This was their first time in the city. I hope they raze our shores again.

Then there’s Dysrhythmia, a band whose name I’ve heard for a decade but wouldn’t have been able to describe for the life of me before tonight and who, apparently, have no business being on this bill. I think their bassist might have worked with Wreck & Reference before but the music they produce is full tilt jazz-frilled whirlwind prog metal. All instrumental. All whipping heads. There is nothing pretty ugly about this. This is music for boys who smoke weed, drink beer and can accurately play the entirety of “Moving Pictures” on air drums (and the Argentinian girls who love them). That is to say, it’s needlessly complicated and totally fucking fun metal for mathletes, man and were there a chorus to be found (there might have been, I left early) just the sort of sonic space my head was craving.

Planning for Burial also played this show but, like a dick, I missed them.

*Excepting, of course, for the wonders of amplified mayhem to be found in the annals of Tape Wyrm.

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