Photos & Text by Adam Murray
The Black Castle in Inglewood, California is huge. It’s sized and shaped much like an airplane hangar with its massive vaulted ceiling, the main differences being the restrooms (not exactly restful) and the merch tables. Oh yeah, and the beer trailer out back, and the weird filthy rape/murder/torture/smoking room on the way to the beer trailer. Suffice it to say, I wish there were more venues like this. It can be pretty hard to relax and cut loose while paying $12/beer and being constanty herded by security at the countless sterile, contrived and corporate “rock clubs” the city has to offer, which unfortunately are the only ones that seem to be able to survive, let alone pull big names. Yes, the City of Los Angeles is overly strict on fledgling venues, but that is a topic for another time. For now, the Black Asshole (thnx mrtn) seems to be holding it together and tonight, we are here to rage.
Midnight, those behooded, barechested blackened bastards from the bowels of Baphomet, went on about twenty minutes after my arrival. If you’re familiar with the band (and you should be), it should come as no surprise that they stole the show. They always do. Midnight has easily quadrupled in popularity since the last time I saw them perform, which was around the same time last year, roughly 6 months before the release of their much anticipated debut album, Satanic Royalty (best of 2011). This band puts forth so much energy during their set, it seems that at a certain point something will explode whether it be an amp, people’s heads, the venue itself, or the crowd as a whole. Until something scientific happens, we’ll have to settle for the crowd – the kids cannot stay off the stage or for that matter, each other. They were a climbin’, clamborin’, dancin’, divin’, total moshin’ mess! The best part, to me anyway, is that the band seems totally unaware of the effect they have on people. Maybe it’s due to the fact that they can’t see the crowd’s enthusiasm through their hoods. Maybe it’s their non-modern lifestyles, and by that I mean little-to-no internet access, no text messaging, no Facebook, none of the bullshit that feeds the rest of us on an hourly basis. Their music is simple and true, evil and fun. Whatever the case, the Midnight experience is wholly organic and fully Satanic. The world is theirs, and they will have it. The set ended, but the kids weren’t finished. Once Athenar dipped his bass into the hands of the minions, they wouldn’t let it go. It made its rounds and eventually back to the stage at his behest, although all its strings had been plucked.
Okay, time to venture toward the beer trailer. I haven’t shimmied through a crowd this dense in a while. To say it was over capacity would be an understatement at the least. The Rape Room (smoking area) was suffocatingly steeped in steam, sweat and smoke. If you had your eyes closed and memory wiped, you could easily assume you were being held captive in some smoke-boxed basement in the deepest swamps of the south, having the title to your life held in a gambling man’s purgatory through an all night online poker sites marathon.
It felt like the entire crowd was in line for the beer trailer. A little investigative swim and a few handshakes through the bodies would reveal that it was a free-for-all, the chances of a crowd surf at the beer trailer rivaled those in front of Toxic Holocaust, whom had commenced in shredding a couple songs ago in the other room. Simple crowd-maneuvering tactics got me up front at the beer cart, but a voice inside me said I wouldn’t be getting any shots of Toxicaust, even though there was but a wall between us. The human traffic was bumper-to-bumper (let’s call it denim-to-leather), and the trek back may be too timely. Fuggit, I decided to not take “no” for an answer, armed myself with cans, and ventured back toward the stage.
Toxic delivered their thrash-laden nuclear riffage to the faces of the young. Songs of war and witches seared through the hot barely-summer Los Angeles night. Riffs and breakdowns blanketed the crowd of misled youth. Horns, fists, bodies and boots, all silhouetted by the harsh red lights of the Castle. Bad lighting made all the more effective by heat and anger, hair and inebriation.
Next (and last) up were Antisect. These recently reunited UK crust originators have been heavily anticipated since announcing their reunion last year and just recently touching down in the US, doing some lite touring in lieu of the Chaos in Tejas festival this weekend in Austin (yes I will see you there). No time wasted as they churned through classics from In Darkness There Is No Choice plus more. The bodies flipped, flopped, and flew. On this night in Inglewood, the crusties were out in force. There is no stopping them, they celebrate in droves, regaling and rebelling against the horseshit traditions of the past, present and future. Survivors of the impending apocalypse, easy living under the sign of the beast, no home to speak of, no care in the modern world. Patches, puke, pee stains and putridity, this is the future of punk and metal, united under one vaulted roof. I’ve said it before and I will again – I wish there were more venues like this one, and I wish they were closer to town.
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