Original Sin’s Gallery

Perth’s black t-shirt brigade had formed a calm and orderly queue down Roe Street while the sun was still up, waiting to enter Metros to do just the opposite: unleash loud chaos in the darkness and lose their fucking minds.

Any show with such a heavy-hitting trio of quality U.S. metal bands is a no-brainer for killer mosh value and bang for your buck. You won’t often see Shadows Fall opening third on the bill at a WA club gig.

Shadows’ frontman Brian Fair kicked things off for the early arrivals crowding the bar. “Get those horns in the fucking air – let’s go!” he growled over the riffing of Thoughts Without Words. Fair carried the hype load – his bandmates don’t move much – and proved he has the strongest neck muscles in the biz by whipping his madly impractical knee-length dreads around the stage like a whirlwind of rotting, sewn-together babies’ arms. Dude probably has to book an extra seat on each flight for them. SF moved swiftly into Still I Rise (from the new disc Retribution) before paying tribute to Pantera’s much-missed guitar god Dimebag with the intro to A New Level. Lamb of God frontman Randy Blythe then made a cameo in Destroyer Of Senses, giving the crowd an early glimpse of the main event.

Filling the metal sandwich was DevilDriver, who played to twice as many punters and whose fret-burners gave twice the effort when it came to stage moves. They spent most of the set splay-legged and hair twirling; even gigantic bassist Jon Miller came close to doing the splits, and not a note seemed to be dropped. As soon as they’d fired up End Of The Line, the balcony levels were standing-room only (including one mother-to-be, who must’ve been eight months pregnant, creating a new metal fan in the womb) and the ground floor crowd had finally become a mosh pit. DevilDriver had everyone giving the bird with fervor. “Hold your middle fingers up high,” instructed tattoo king Dez Fafara. “No matter how old you are, how young you are, learn to fucking use this – œcause without this you will not fucking survive in this world.” So began I Could Care Less, followed by Back With A Vengeance. The pit heaved and screamed while the stage smoke billowed, sending a sweaty metal fug slowly rising to the upper levels.

The arrival of headliners Lamb Of God was announced by a pre-recorded intro and searchlights cutting left and right through a purple haze. They hammered through In Your Words and Set To Fail before we heard anything from vocalist Blythe, who’d sensibly poured a bottle of water over his head in the first few seconds. “This is the last time we’re gonna play in 2009 and we’re gonna play right here with you motherfuckers – are you ready to have a great time?” And with a mighty scream of approval instead of a – œduh’ from all assembled, he took their collective hand for a Walk With Me Through Hell. A surprisingly cute and large papier-mache lamb was thrown from the audience onto the stage, leaving many wondering how the hell anyone could actually smuggle it into the venue. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would fit easily down your pants, and it’s pretty certain the guys scanning for weapons at the door might have noticed a big white bulge with legs.

People who weren’t thinking about that were treated to slick fast wah leads, killer harmonic squeals, incredible drumming and Blythe’s wide-ranging screams through Now You’ve Got Something To Die For, before he stopped to give props to Shadows Fall and have another chat. “This is for the bands that make the trip and the fans that make the trip worth it. This is called Ruin .”

After that galloping banshee of a track came Ashes Of The Wake, Omerta and whole bunch of others, with people singing along to each one and the balconies heaving.

Lamb Of God signed off with praise, a laugh and a threat. “Thankyou so fucking much!” said Blythe. “We are Lamb Of God. Motherfuckers, we love you … (cheer) … except for that faggot (Blythe points to the projectile-throwing dude in the crowd that drew his ire. Crowd laughs.) … why don’t you meet me out back, we’ll see what happens.”

That’s another show most people would have paid to see.

As far as pure sound went, describing the music of one of these three five-piece bands (how many ways can you say – œbrutal’?) is to describe the other two (apologies to hardcore fans who get their kicks from the nuances that separate these crews), which is why this lineup worked well, and why these bands love touring together and making cameos on each others’ work. Use whichever clichés you like: crushing groove-core riffs, faster than light double-kick, soaring melodic solos – it’s all the same if you only have words to label it. Better to map out the different ways each vocalist leapt over the barricade and into the pit (they did), how the guitarists abused their whammies (tick) and how many beers were thrown but didn’t come close to reaching the stage (not enough). The bands were pretty much one musical entity on this night, which made for a quality show.

Original Sin’s Gallery