I’m writing on the porch of a nearly condemned downtown castle. The steps of rotten wood threaten death on every piss break. I’m too drunk to see and my neck feels six inches longer.

It’s only Thursday. Let’s rewind to the beginning of the evening.

Monika Deviat of Deviant Aerials started the night off with a pole dance display to Slayer’s “Dead Skin Mask” as the bar began to fill with artificial smoke and darkly garbed figures. Jaws were visibly dropped in my vicinity as the gorgeous dancer defied the conventional laws of gravity.

Vancouver’s Hoopsnake were next with their mid-90s doom, Burning Witch style blackened vocals and unbelievable energy. The guitarist spat vocals through his missing bottom teeth. The drummer’s oversized ass drum, on which he strategically scratched out the B, carried the three piece through impossible timings.

Epi-Demic then slashed through the sludgy atmosphere with some no-nonsense political crossover. Not many bands depend on a bassist this much. His strap gave out on the first song, but a quick recovery and serious four-string philandering made for an incredible set.

Reigning supreme over Thursday’s Baphomiss was Denver’s Speedwolf. Their heavy hitting Disfear meets Motörhead style of metal was down right dirty and delightfully chaotic. Speaking of Lemmy, comparisons have been made between the Colorado thrash revivalists and their leather-laden progenitors, and after seeing both of them in the same year, it appears Speedwolf is infinitely more entertaining.

Canadian doomsters Blood Ceremony mellowed things out in classic stoner style. If Candlemass had a girl singer who also killed the keyboard and battled the guitarist’s solos with a fuckin’ flute, the world wouldn’t need this band. But the world does need Blood Ceremony, and that’s that.

The Contortionist wrapped up the night with progression way too technical for the average intoxicated audience member. Ultimately, it came across as boring. Most metal heads had left in order to save precious energy for the rest of the weekend. At this rate, and especially in our case, few will live to see Sunday.

By Allison Drinnan, Tanner Wolff, Ian Lemke
Photo: Sarah Kitteringham

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