From the quill of Bifurgacheffe Stoutdrunkson of the mines of IPA, scratches into this digital format for your delectation and criticism…
…The sky cracked; the ether pulsating with an ominous rage AND IT WAS BORN!
A hulking mass of darkness and hatred, it came into being, answering to the name…..
MORBID METAL MONDAYS!!!!!
Or, you know, a bunch of dudes went to a metal show on a Monday and had a mother fucking blast!
Dear reader, because you are indeed dear and, we should hope, a reader. This is the post you have been waiting for. This is the post in which we review the happenings of 2nd March 2015, the happenings which spawned the birth of our name and the spawning of something we intend to happen much much more. Morbid Metal Mondays (also to be called Metal Mad Mondays when, you know, things ain’t so morbid).
So what is a Morbid Metal Monday?
Well… In the best fireside fashion… Are You Sitting comfortably?
On MONDAY Dwalin, Gandalf The Flat White and myself convened in a fine drinking establishment in the town of Camden, where we stuffed our faces with meat and fine ale (as all self respecting Manly Mens do) before staggering our way to Camden’s Underworld to smash our ears with some serious morbid metal (you see now?) provided by Abysmal Dawn (exceptional band we were turned onto by Gandalf) and Death. Though obviously not Death because Chuck Schuldiner is no longer with us. No, this was DEATH TO ALL. The Death covers band made up of ex-members of Death. So, you know, it was Death.
Once in the Underworld we ran to the bar and excitedly tried the intriguingly named Underworld Ale… also known as, and if you could imagine a splendid little drumroll here please………
re-branded Tetley’s. …
Not the expected, micro brewed, quality ale the name on the pump suggested we were getting.
Tetley’s. TETLEY’S! MOTHER FUCKING TETLEY’S!
SOOOOOOOO…. A quick switch to Newcastle Brown Ale and some happy memories of misspent youths bubbled (heh) back to lurbricate and libate for the ensuing METAL!!!!
Abysmal Dawn were up first and we rocked out in fine style, much head banging ensued and looking around the entire crowd was agreeing furiously with the band. I’d not heard much of Dawns offerings but came away with an insatiable desire to listen to their brand of technical and oh so heavy metal on repeat for many a morning’s commute.
ANNNNNNNNND… As a side note to the ladies (read as laaaaaaadddddaaaaaayyyyysssss), Abysmal Dawn’s bassist (Eliseo Garcia ) is clearly the man in death metal who gets, and I hope not to offend, THE MOST PUSSY…. Seriously. LOOK AT THIS DUDE!
After a short break at the bar it was time for Death, who came striding on to the enchanting smell of Nag Champa. Yes people, they cranked out the incense, as if this was some kind of religious ceremony…
BECAUSE IT WAS!There was no mistake when they came out; this was a night of exultation, of revelling in the pure freedom of metal.
…And all of the crowd knew it; all psychotically emphatic in their smashing, spasming and screaming along with Death. Beards, long hair and bodies flew in tribute to their infamous brand of thrashy, proggy, deathly metallic offerings.
In return they played a stunning set; Dwalin manged to find himself gripping tightly to the stage as a sublime rendition of flattening of emotions sent the Underworld into a frenzy it has probably not seen in a long time, and definitely will not see for longer.
Of note is the fact that Steve Digiorgio, bassist for just about every seminal Death Metal band EVER (Dwalin addition: and also for a cool prog band called Soen, natch), could be seen striding around the stage clad in sandals like a hippy from hell (yup, that Nag Champa definitely made more sense seeing this) all the while ignoring Dwalin and I tickling his exposed toes. Yes. We tickled his toes. OUR FINGERS HAVE CARESSED THE TOE HAIR OF A MOTHER FUCKING LEGEND (don’t judge us, only Sigmund Freud may do that…. well… urm.. Yeah, ok, it’s a bit weird. You can judge)
All too soon the music was finished and we, filled with the rapturous tones of destruction, drunkenly stumbled our way home, humming dirges and happy in the knowledge we didn’t have to drag our soon to be hungover corpses into work the next day…
So thats it folks. The tale is told of how Morbid metal mondays was born. This is our tradition, one we intend to uphold.
Sigmund Freud loves Steve Digiorgio’s toes, and judges those that wouldn’t tickle them!
Special thank-you goes out to the dudes from Abysmal Dawn who not only handed us a beer from their deserved position in the vip area during Death’s set (the boost to our dwindling blood alcohol levels was much appreciated) but who chatted with us for a bit after the show and seemed like genuinely nice chaps…. they, from what I remember, coined the term CAPTAIN PUSSAY for the aforementioned Eliseo, upon hearing our puerile notes on their show. Cheers guys… and also, Mr Flat White’s assertion that Obsolensecence was the DM album of 2014 was not overstated. WELL FUCKING DONE!