Hello Katagorians!
It's been a little over a week since we performed the Classic Metal Festival In Chicago and I'd figured I'd get the full details (or lack thereof) about our trip before I forget. I know we met many, many People and bands over the course of the weekend, so please forgive me if I omit many of these details to keep this post from dragging longer than it already has! MInd you, I did this post all in fun and I have debated about posting this journal entry because of it's length and figured many would not find it interesting, but I had the time on my hands, so please take it for what it's worth. I doubt I'll EVER post something like this again.
Here's a little coffee table story from my point of view that I like to call "Katagory V goes to Chicago."
Chapter 1: Thursday and Friday - Road warriors, red bull and the roach motel.
We left Salt Lake City late in the evening Thursday and began the 22-hour, 2600-mile trek to Chicago. The drive was smooth and actually went by very quickly having 5 people to share the driving duties. Most of us kept ourselves occupies by reading issues of BW&BK, Metal Maniacs and a few other zines, challenging each other (and swearing up a storm!) to a few rounds of Monkey Ball on a Gameboy Advanced as well as watching a movie or two, all the while listening to the best metal bands in the ol' CD player
Once we arrived Friday evening, we had a hard time tracking down the hotel, which once we located...wished we hadn't! Although I have to admit I've been in worse, this was a pretty creepy place. Bulletproof glass at the check-in desk was enough proof of this! The other guys seemed to have fairly decent rooms, but go figure I'd have the "crack room". The door didn't close completely, which I would assume was due to all the bashing and foot marks from possibly being kicked in a few times. I also found a razor blade conveniently hidden in the bathroom lights as well as finding a peculiar ash residue filling the nightstand draw (which was broken and glued together in a very shoddy fashion). So this is what the south side of Chicago is like? Oh well, we were warned....
After we settled in, we headed off to the Oasis to grab our passes and get the scoop of what we were in for. When we arrived, Bob Mitchell's Alchemy X band was on stage and putting on quite a good show! We settled in for a bit and grabbed a beer or two and hung around, checking the crowd out and running into some familiar faces and friends. After Alchemy X, we ended up heading over to an Applebee's close to the hotel and grabbing a "Great Steak" (inside joke... everyone in the band was on a Jim Rome kick, everything we said was done with a Jim Rome voice imitation... "Great steak" was to be the coined phrase of the weekend ). Also, the restaurant manager seemed curious (or paranoid) about us for some reason and lurked only a few feet away from us the entire time we ate (Aprx. a half hour!) and then walked away after we received our check. We thought that to be kind of strange... us Utah boys a threat? On the south side of Chicago? HA!!! We then finished up there and returned to the Hotel for some much needed sleep. I ended up watching "Lost Boys" on some local station until I passed out... and missed the ending dammit!
Chapter 2: Saturday - the Day of Judgment.
We all crawled out of our rooms late in the morning hours and found our way to a nice "ma & pa" dinner for some breakfast (or brunch?), and while having breakfast, we ran into the some of the guys in Vyndykator. We returned to the hotel and met up with Journalist Christian Radmaker from Edge of Time and did an "informal interview" with the entire band, which is a first because I'm usually the only one that has done the interviews (mainly because they are usually always done on-line, and I'm the only one in the band to get with the times and be connected to the net!) It was a very enlightening interview, and totally off the cuff. Looking back at it, I'm sure it turned out like a skit form Saturday Night Live as we we're being total cards about the whole thing and really having a good time with it. On top of this, Christian also presented us with a fine, home-brewed Holland beer, which I consumed on the 4th of July weekend. When all was said and done, we parted ways that afternoon, all of us shit, showered and shaved and each went through a "dry" rehearsal, loaded up the equipment and returned to the venue. We lurked around for a bit with three bands ahead of us, and I was adamant to catch Twelfth Gate's set, which was hitting the stage before us.
Chapter 3: The Show - Lights, Cameras and Sweatbox central
After Twelfth Gate finished up their blistering heavy set, we began rushing the stage with a 15 min. time frame to set up. There was no time for sound checking, no time for questions and defiantly no time to hit the restroom! Before we knew it we were playing "Sands of Time" from the new album... And I couldn't hear SHIT! It was all one big blaring roar of distorted guitars! I couldn't even hear our drummer Matt! Shear panic rushed over me for a moment, as I realized I had 6 more songs and 35 more minutes of horror to endure. By the third song, I basically threw all logic out the window and decided to just run amuck on stage and put on a hell of a stage show, hoping that with me not being able to hear myself and not being sure if what I was playing was accurate, that I would be covered by my running, jumping and leaping all over the stage like Scott Ian with a fire in his ass! Surprisingly, from what I understand after watching the videotapes later, I made very few mistakes... Thank god for practice, practice, practice! And the band had unanimously voted that I should do that more often live.
The lights were hot... Damn hot, really HOT! From the first note I was sweating profusely. I don't think I have EVER sweat that soon or that hard on stage (that was not to sound sexual by-the-way... ). I was dripping sweat all over the stage and literally slipping on my own perspiration, as well as flinging my sweat (and spit on one poor gentleman on the gate!) all over the place and it would not STOP! I looked over at the rest of the guys, and they seemed to be doing quite well, with only little beads forming.... but I was pouring buckets I tell you, buckets! My eyes were not closed half the time because I was trying to concentrate; it was because the sweat was stinging the hell out of them!
We finished playing our set with two minutes to spare in our set time, and were running at a mad dash to tear down our equipment. We hadn't even unplugged the first cord before the band Rival began hauling their stuff on the stage. We trucked the stuff off in a record five minuets and hit the catering table backstage. Believe me, we worked up a serious appetite, and I personally lost LOTS of body fluid in that 40 min. time frame... Beer was not an option at this point, only refreshing non-alcoholic beverages. Backstage, people mingled to the side bar, which was open to the public, and we all talked to a lot of people that approached us about the set. This included everyone form 'Zines, friends, fans and even the now Infamous..."set stealer"!
The story behind this fine chap is that the last time we played this festival in 2002, we caught this one particular gent on camera, walking up casually to the stage and then very quietly grabbing our set list and pocketing it... All was caught on video while we were busy packing up our gear with our backs turned.
Now, the funny thing here is this: the drum kit used for the festival this year was HIS drum kit! And to top things off (because this person is now legendary in our bands circle due to his actions caught on tape last year), Lynn, at the end of our set, saw him in the crowd and publicly 'offered' him our set list! Needless to say, Lynn (the blunt jackass that he can be) made it public to the festivals audience that this person thieved the set list last year, and we were going to give it to him this time as a gift. This guy got the joke and was a really good sport about it, which made it worth mentioning, seeing how the crowd got a chuckle out of it as well.
Chapter 4: Saturday night's all right for 6% beer!
After returning our gear back to the hotel and cleaning up a bit, we returned to the venue and decided to hang out the rest of the night. After all, this was our first time in Chicago. We kicked back in the back of the bar with Christian as well as our Chicago camera man John "Where's Brad's skull?" Coyne. While we settled in at the back, I had a few beers purchased by our good thrashing friend Ralf Walters (lord of the Aggressive Perfection forum) while at the same time, took in the following bands performing. October 31 still takes the cake; I can see why they are mandatory each year. King Fowley IS the King! Pagan War Machine tore it up. I think they defiantly gave Slayer a run for their money in the fast/aggressive thrash department, Jim Durken & Company were in fine form that night.
Around this time Ben Meyer from Nasty Savage walked over to me and gave me a pat on the back, said a few kind words and mentioned that he really liked our set. Let me tell you this: there are no words to describe the feelings you have when you hear one of your peers, who you've been a fan of for over a decade, tell you that! I was very grateful! It was also at this time that Metalucifer was going through there set. It was a pretty mixed response for us near the end of their slot (especially for the poor journalist, Christian, who had his head in his hands in dismay!). We had no idea you could write that many songs with the title "Heavy Metal" in it! They had the "classic metal" sound down pat and put on a hell of a good show, but in my personal opinion, I think the band Wolf would have been a better choice live for the retro feel. Metalucifer was a bit to Spinal Tap-ish for my taste.
Finally, Meliah Rage hit the stage and kicked everyone's ass (well mine anyways) They played all the classics, but had a minor boo-boo When their new vocalist missed (or forgot) a verse in "Solitary Solitude", but what the hell
It happens to the best of us, they still kicked ass!
When they finished their set, half of our band had run back stage to play the "fan boy" part, while the rest awaited Nasty Savage to hit the stage. It came to my attention once Nasty Savage started, that our guitarist was so loaded, that he was head butting, moshing and putting people in headlocks. This came about by the guys in Meliah Rage, who repeatedly bought him beers (three in a row I believe) all because they thought Trevor looked like Jim Koury's (Meliah Rage's guitarist) brother. Matt witnessed this and recalls them saying, "Hey Jim, let's buy your brother another beer!" They didn't realize they were buying beers for a Utah boy who wasn't used to the high alcohol content (or normal beer for those outside of Utah). After watching Nasty Savage rip it up, and play my personal favorite "Stabbed in the Back", we had to cart Trevor back to the Hotel.
We made a quick stop at a Wendy's burger joint and began to unwind at the Hotel. Everyone in the band but me decided to have a bull-shit session for a few hours about the events that transpired that day, while I opted to turn in early because I was beat, tired and had a sober-headache. I'm usually up for hanging out, but I think I sweat all the fun out of me hours ago.
Chapter 5: Sunday and Monday - The Voyage Home
That very next morning, we all stumbled out of our rooms, some feeling chipper and aware, while others feeling like the floor of a New York cab. Curtis immediately began trucking equipment out of my room before I had a chance to get in the shower it was apparent who in the group wanted to get back home! After a nice shower and gathering the remainder of my things I walk over to the other rooms to wait for everyone to check out. Upon waiting, I noticed that the hotel parking lot was packed, whereas the night before it was empty. I found this a little strange, and figured something was going on in town, and happy we were leaving and not going to be fighting traffic. I then noticed people also waking and wandering about and even getting in their cars.
There was something even stranger about this now it literally looked like the circus was staying at our hotel, or they were having an odd Chicago-style Mardi gras party going on somewhere close. It didn't really register with me what was going on until I heard one of the maids below comment, "have fun at the parade" and a deep male voice reply in a very feminine manner, "oh you know it girlfriend, you know it!" I peered over the balcony and it hit me when I noticed the guy with the hiked-up hot pants and rainbows painted on to them and his friend who looked like Wesley Snipes in a horrible long red wig carrying a banner which I could only make out as ' -Y Pride Chic-'.
Well, that answered my question, especially when dozens of them came flooding out of their rooms like a fashion show as we left for the long exodus home.
I think you all can do the math at this point.
The drive home went by very quickly. Curtis decided to place some type of record for 'most-hours-driven' in the group, clocking in at 6+ hours. This initially set off a small mutiny, as most of us needed to use a restroom at this point. It seemed later on in the drive if you weren't driving, you were sleeping, and if you weren't sleeping, you were spotting the guy driving. Although he wouldn't admit to it, I had Matt nearly in tears of boredom spotting me at 2:00am. The rule is this: he, who drives, chooses the music. Well, most of the guys in the band would choose something heavy and aggressive like Iced Earth or Nevermore at that time of night after being on the road 12+ hours just to stay awake. But not me, in fact I'm the complete opposite. The heavier it is, the sleepier I get, live laying on the wheel-well of a car drinvg down teh road..it puits me to sleep. So my turn driving was spent listening to Spock's Beard, Seventh Key and Toto. I'm still surprised Matt didn't kill me.
With much anticipation after nearly 20 hours on the road we finally hit Parleys Canyon, which for us Utahans heading into the valley from the east consider this the "home stretch". With a few switchbacks of the road lies the Salt Lake valley and home, unfortunately, at the peak of the home stretch my bladder was about to burst and I insisted we pullover before the entire band had a golden shower! There was much grumbling and curses spoken underneath their breath, but I had to go so badly that my eyes were swimming and I was walking like a hunch back with a stick up it's arse.
We finally returned home, and it felt good to be back in the land of the Zion curtain. We unpacked, threw the gear in the studio in a hasty manner and much like the end of Stephen King's novel "Stand By Me", parted ways with one another with very little in the way of good-bye's in the early morning hours of the hot morning sun.
Next stop Atlanta!
\m/
Dustin
It's been a little over a week since we performed the Classic Metal Festival In Chicago and I'd figured I'd get the full details (or lack thereof) about our trip before I forget. I know we met many, many People and bands over the course of the weekend, so please forgive me if I omit many of these details to keep this post from dragging longer than it already has! MInd you, I did this post all in fun and I have debated about posting this journal entry because of it's length and figured many would not find it interesting, but I had the time on my hands, so please take it for what it's worth. I doubt I'll EVER post something like this again.
Here's a little coffee table story from my point of view that I like to call "Katagory V goes to Chicago." Chapter 1: Thursday and Friday - Road warriors, red bull and the roach motel.
We left Salt Lake City late in the evening Thursday and began the 22-hour, 2600-mile trek to Chicago. The drive was smooth and actually went by very quickly having 5 people to share the driving duties. Most of us kept ourselves occupies by reading issues of BW&BK, Metal Maniacs and a few other zines, challenging each other (and swearing up a storm!) to a few rounds of Monkey Ball on a Gameboy Advanced as well as watching a movie or two, all the while listening to the best metal bands in the ol' CD player
Once we arrived Friday evening, we had a hard time tracking down the hotel, which once we located...wished we hadn't!
Although I have to admit I've been in worse, this was a pretty creepy place. Bulletproof glass at the check-in desk was enough proof of this! The other guys seemed to have fairly decent rooms, but go figure I'd have the "crack room". The door didn't close completely, which I would assume was due to all the bashing and foot marks from possibly being kicked in a few times. I also found a razor blade conveniently hidden in the bathroom lights as well as finding a peculiar ash residue filling the nightstand draw (which was broken and glued together in a very shoddy fashion). So this is what the south side of Chicago is like? Oh well, we were warned.... After we settled in, we headed off to the Oasis to grab our passes and get the scoop of what we were in for. When we arrived, Bob Mitchell's Alchemy X band was on stage and putting on quite a good show! We settled in for a bit and grabbed a beer or two and hung around, checking the crowd out and running into some familiar faces and friends. After Alchemy X, we ended up heading over to an Applebee's close to the hotel and grabbing a "Great Steak" (inside joke... everyone in the band was on a Jim Rome kick, everything we said was done with a Jim Rome voice imitation... "Great steak" was to be the coined phrase of the weekend
). Also, the restaurant manager seemed curious (or paranoid) about us for some reason and lurked only a few feet away from us the entire time we ate (Aprx. a half hour!) and then walked away after we received our check. We thought that to be kind of strange... us Utah boys a threat? On the south side of Chicago? HA!!! We then finished up there and returned to the Hotel for some much needed sleep. I ended up watching "Lost Boys" on some local station until I passed out... and missed the ending dammit!Chapter 2: Saturday - the Day of Judgment.
We all crawled out of our rooms late in the morning hours and found our way to a nice "ma & pa" dinner for some breakfast (or brunch?), and while having breakfast, we ran into the some of the guys in Vyndykator. We returned to the hotel and met up with Journalist Christian Radmaker from Edge of Time and did an "informal interview" with the entire band, which is a first because I'm usually the only one that has done the interviews (mainly because they are usually always done on-line, and I'm the only one in the band to get with the times and be connected to the net!) It was a very enlightening interview, and totally off the cuff. Looking back at it, I'm sure it turned out like a skit form Saturday Night Live as we we're being total cards about the whole thing and really having a good time with it. On top of this, Christian also presented us with a fine, home-brewed Holland beer, which I consumed on the 4th of July weekend. When all was said and done, we parted ways that afternoon, all of us shit, showered and shaved and each went through a "dry" rehearsal, loaded up the equipment and returned to the venue. We lurked around for a bit with three bands ahead of us, and I was adamant to catch Twelfth Gate's set, which was hitting the stage before us.
Chapter 3: The Show - Lights, Cameras and Sweatbox central
After Twelfth Gate finished up their blistering heavy set, we began rushing the stage with a 15 min. time frame to set up. There was no time for sound checking, no time for questions and defiantly no time to hit the restroom! Before we knew it we were playing "Sands of Time" from the new album... And I couldn't hear SHIT! It was all one big blaring roar of distorted guitars! I couldn't even hear our drummer Matt! Shear panic rushed over me for a moment, as I realized I had 6 more songs and 35 more minutes of horror to endure. By the third song, I basically threw all logic out the window and decided to just run amuck on stage and put on a hell of a stage show, hoping that with me not being able to hear myself and not being sure if what I was playing was accurate, that I would be covered by my running, jumping and leaping all over the stage like Scott Ian with a fire in his ass! Surprisingly, from what I understand after watching the videotapes later, I made very few mistakes... Thank god for practice, practice, practice! And the band had unanimously voted that I should do that more often live.
The lights were hot... Damn hot, really HOT! From the first note I was sweating profusely. I don't think I have EVER sweat that soon or that hard on stage (that was not to sound sexual by-the-way...
). I was dripping sweat all over the stage and literally slipping on my own perspiration, as well as flinging my sweat (and spit on one poor gentleman on the gate!) all over the place and it would not STOP! I looked over at the rest of the guys, and they seemed to be doing quite well, with only little beads forming.... but I was pouring buckets I tell you, buckets! My eyes were not closed half the time because I was trying to concentrate; it was because the sweat was stinging the hell out of them!We finished playing our set with two minutes to spare in our set time, and were running at a mad dash to tear down our equipment. We hadn't even unplugged the first cord before the band Rival began hauling their stuff on the stage. We trucked the stuff off in a record five minuets and hit the catering table backstage. Believe me, we worked up a serious appetite, and I personally lost LOTS of body fluid in that 40 min. time frame... Beer was not an option at this point, only refreshing non-alcoholic beverages. Backstage, people mingled to the side bar, which was open to the public, and we all talked to a lot of people that approached us about the set. This included everyone form 'Zines, friends, fans and even the now Infamous..."set stealer"!
The story behind this fine chap is that the last time we played this festival in 2002, we caught this one particular gent on camera, walking up casually to the stage and then very quietly grabbing our set list and pocketing it... All was caught on video while we were busy packing up our gear with our backs turned. Now, the funny thing here is this: the drum kit used for the festival this year was HIS drum kit! And to top things off (because this person is now legendary in our bands circle due to his actions caught on tape last year), Lynn, at the end of our set, saw him in the crowd and publicly 'offered' him our set list!
Needless to say, Lynn (the blunt jackass that he can be) made it public to the festivals audience that this person thieved the set list last year, and we were going to give it to him this time as a gift. This guy got the joke and was a really good sport about it, which made it worth mentioning, seeing how the crowd got a chuckle out of it as well.Chapter 4: Saturday night's all right for 6% beer!
After returning our gear back to the hotel and cleaning up a bit, we returned to the venue and decided to hang out the rest of the night. After all, this was our first time in Chicago. We kicked back in the back of the bar with Christian as well as our Chicago camera man John "Where's Brad's skull?" Coyne. While we settled in at the back, I had a few beers purchased by our good thrashing friend Ralf Walters (lord of the Aggressive Perfection forum) while at the same time, took in the following bands performing. October 31 still takes the cake; I can see why they are mandatory each year. King Fowley IS the King! Pagan War Machine tore it up. I think they defiantly gave Slayer a run for their money in the fast/aggressive thrash department, Jim Durken & Company were in fine form that night.
Around this time Ben Meyer from Nasty Savage walked over to me and gave me a pat on the back, said a few kind words and mentioned that he really liked our set.
Let me tell you this: there are no words to describe the feelings you have when you hear one of your peers, who you've been a fan of for over a decade, tell you that! I was very grateful! It was also at this time that Metalucifer was going through there set. It was a pretty mixed response for us near the end of their slot (especially for the poor journalist, Christian, who had his head in his hands in dismay!). We had no idea you could write that many songs with the title "Heavy Metal" in it! They had the "classic metal" sound down pat and put on a hell of a good show, but in my personal opinion, I think the band Wolf would have been a better choice live for the retro feel. Metalucifer was a bit to Spinal Tap-ish for my taste.Finally, Meliah Rage hit the stage and kicked everyone's ass (well mine anyways) They played all the classics, but had a minor boo-boo
When their new vocalist missed (or forgot) a verse in "Solitary Solitude", but what the hell
It happens to the best of us, they still kicked ass!When they finished their set, half of our band had run back stage to play the "fan boy" part, while the rest awaited Nasty Savage to hit the stage. It came to my attention once Nasty Savage started, that our guitarist was so loaded, that he was head butting, moshing and putting people in headlocks. This came about by the guys in Meliah Rage, who repeatedly bought him beers (three in a row I believe) all because they thought Trevor looked like Jim Koury's (Meliah Rage's guitarist) brother. Matt witnessed this and recalls them saying, "Hey Jim, let's buy your brother another beer!" They didn't realize they were buying beers for a Utah boy who wasn't used to the high alcohol content (or normal beer for those outside of Utah). After watching Nasty Savage rip it up, and play my personal favorite "Stabbed in the Back", we had to cart Trevor back to the Hotel.
We made a quick stop at a Wendy's burger joint and began to unwind at the Hotel. Everyone in the band but me decided to have a bull-shit session for a few hours about the events that transpired that day, while I opted to turn in early because I was beat, tired and had a sober-headache. I'm usually up for hanging out, but I think I sweat all the fun out of me hours ago.
Chapter 5: Sunday and Monday - The Voyage Home
That very next morning, we all stumbled out of our rooms, some feeling chipper and aware, while others feeling like the floor of a New York cab. Curtis immediately began trucking equipment out of my room before I had a chance to get in the shower it was apparent who in the group wanted to get back home! After a nice shower and gathering the remainder of my things I walk over to the other rooms to wait for everyone to check out. Upon waiting, I noticed that the hotel parking lot was packed, whereas the night before it was empty. I found this a little strange, and figured something was going on in town, and happy we were leaving and not going to be fighting traffic. I then noticed people also waking and wandering about and even getting in their cars.
There was something even stranger about this now it literally looked like the circus was staying at our hotel, or they were having an odd Chicago-style Mardi gras party going on somewhere close. It didn't really register with me what was going on until I heard one of the maids below comment, "have fun at the parade" and a deep male voice reply in a very feminine manner, "oh you know it girlfriend, you know it!" I peered over the balcony and it hit me when I noticed the guy with the hiked-up hot pants and rainbows painted on to them and his friend who looked like Wesley Snipes in a horrible long red wig carrying a banner which I could only make out as ' -Y Pride Chic-'.
Well, that answered my question, especially when dozens of them came flooding out of their rooms like a fashion show as we left for the long exodus home.
I think you all can do the math at this point.
The drive home went by very quickly. Curtis decided to place some type of record for 'most-hours-driven' in the group, clocking in at 6+ hours. This initially set off a small mutiny, as most of us needed to use a restroom at this point. It seemed later on in the drive if you weren't driving, you were sleeping, and if you weren't sleeping, you were spotting the guy driving. Although he wouldn't admit to it, I had Matt nearly in tears of boredom spotting me at 2:00am. The rule is this: he, who drives, chooses the music. Well, most of the guys in the band would choose something heavy and aggressive like Iced Earth or Nevermore at that time of night after being on the road 12+ hours just to stay awake. But not me, in fact I'm the complete opposite. The heavier it is, the sleepier I get, live laying on the wheel-well of a car drinvg down teh road..it puits me to sleep. So my turn driving was spent listening to Spock's Beard, Seventh Key and Toto. I'm still surprised Matt didn't kill me.
With much anticipation after nearly 20 hours on the road we finally hit Parleys Canyon, which for us Utahans heading into the valley from the east consider this the "home stretch". With a few switchbacks of the road lies the Salt Lake valley and home, unfortunately, at the peak of the home stretch my bladder was about to burst and I insisted we pullover before the entire band had a golden shower! There was much grumbling and curses spoken underneath their breath, but I had to go so badly that my eyes were swimming and I was walking like a hunch back with a stick up it's arse.
We finally returned home, and it felt good to be back in the land of the Zion curtain. We unpacked, threw the gear in the studio in a hasty manner and much like the end of Stephen King's novel "Stand By Me", parted ways with one another with very little in the way of good-bye's in the early morning hours of the hot morning sun.
Next stop Atlanta!
\m/
Dustin
