SUPPORT: Impaled, Myotonia
VENUE: The Pound -- San Francisco, CA
DATE: Monday, December 5th, 2005
ATTENDED W/: Idolatress
GEAR WORN: GWAR Hoodie & New GWAR Shirt
MERCH PURCHASED: NA
MOSHING REPORT: Small, Friendly, But Vicious
PICTURES: Click Here
MS LINK: Click Here
EDDIES AWARDED: 8.00
REVIEWED: December 31th, 2005
Goatwhore! Goatwhore ! Goatwhore! Their name is the only reason I have any interest in this band. If they went by any other I really wouldn’t give a shit. Goatwhore! Goatwhore! Goatwhore! It’s a great fucking name! Goatwhore is a black metal outfit from New Orleans. That’s all I knew about them before, and that’s everything I know about them now. In fact, that’s all I damn well care to know in the future. Goatwhore! Goatwhore! Goatwhore! The band was booked into the Pound for a headlining gig at the Pound with only a $12 ticket. I’d gladly fork over my dough just so I could see these fuckers and have a fucked-up name on top of the Permanent Record for a while! Goatwhore! Goatwhore! Goatwhore! (Ok, I’m done with the Goatwhore’s for a while.)
Monday, December 5th was a cold, foggy, and wet San Francisco night. Only like 150 people turned up for the show, so it was frigid even inside the Pound with its open-air, shackworthy doorways. Coming off a bout of the flu, I arrived in multiple layers with gloves and a knit hat, all worn underneath my GWAR hoodie. I looked absolutely ridiculous but I kept warm. When you get older, you get to a point at which you’d rather be warm and comfortable than freezing and cool. Just imagine Kenny in a black GWAR hoodie.
Arriving late and completely missing Myotonia, our first band of the night was Impaled. Anyone remember Slap Shot with Paul Newman, the Hanson Brothers in particular? I swear those two of those nerdy fucks who could kick anyone’s ass decided to start a gross-out death metalish band. One song title sums up their set lists: Feces Of Death. Beavis and Butthead would have laughed their way into an early heart attack watching these guys. Their stage included a partially decomposed body / skelelton impaled on a stake, sirens, and lots of fog.
Before the second or third song, their bass layer lit up this tea candle sized protrusion on the head stock of his bass. I was about 3/4 of the way back from the Pound stage. (Remember that we are talking about a indoor venue that is just slightly larger than a good sized classroom). My first thought? “Oh my god, something in this place is going to catch fire.” The bassist then spit out something flammable over his bass, igniting a cloud of fire over the small crowd. My next thought? “That asshole is going to burn down the Pound. Get out now!” Fortunately, that was it for the pyros but I was nervous about more for the rest of the set. Hey dumb ass, didn’t you learn anything from the Great White fire?
Goatwhore didn’t take long at all to hit their very simple stage. Two amps were each covered with a singular fabric upside down cross. This picture
shows pretty much everything. I guess a $12 ticket price doesn’t allow a band to purchase goats, sheeps, or even butt-ugly virgins for sacrifices or rituals.
The band took small extended breaks between every song to catch their breath. Between songs, you could often hear the buzz from their amps. The small crowd was definitely into the music but were otherwise quiet. I could have talked to the band in my normal voice from the back. Goatwhore was excellent in announcing the titles to their songs but I am almost positive I missed one song. I wrote down partial lyrics and it may be Sky Inferno. Also note the presence of a new but untitled song.
The set list:
The Serpent That Enslaves What Is Worshipped
Desolate Path To Apocalyptic Rain
Vengence Of Demonic Fury
Invert The Virgin
Chanting Bells Of Funeral Anguish
As Reflection Slowly Fades
Graveyards And Dead Angels
The Beauty In Suffering
(brand new untitled song)
During Invert The Virgin, one of their fans grabbed a mic and the band let him growl a verse to everyone’s applause. Goatwhore congratulated him on a valiant effort but told him to sing the right fucking verse next time.
The pit was large (given the large empty space inside the Pound) and vicious but its members displayed a gracious etiquette that has been lacking from many of my most recent concert experiences. The most evil person I saw that night was a lady decked out in her best 1985 silver furry jacket and jeans during an 80’s two-step in the middle of it all. Some people have no common sense; she had to trashed and strung out on something.
Goatwhore’s music reminds me of bits and pieces I’ve heard from Venom: a kind of a raw, old school, sludgy sound mixed with more modern blast beats. Agony best describes their vocals, which go from pure growling to slurred, echoed moans. I don’t even want to know exactly what they were singing. It’s probably all just bad shit and would likely offend my religious sensibilities to no end. And no corpse paint -- what a rip off!
A fact that didn’t exactly dawn on me at the time was that Goatwhore was unceremoniously my first headlining, nighttime black metal concert. I saw Dimmu Borgir
play a couple of songs in the daylight at the 2004 Ozzfest. I saw Behemoth
play a few tracks in their opening support slot on King Diamond’s last tour but that too was still mostly under the sun. In their live performances, both bands pretty much sucked wind. As I struggle for one word to describe my experience with Goatwhore, the best I can conjure is (a very insulting) comical. It all just made me want to a giggle in response to their dark side silliness.
Most of you on METALSETLISTS know that I take substantial umbrage to black metal as a genre because of its philosophy and symbology stand in contradiction to my own choices in faith. Maybe I have to giggle in order to enjoy music, even on a limited basis, I would otherwise gravitate towards if not for its unholy and unhealthy messages. In other words, I enjoy the Exorcist movies, but I don’t watch them over and over again.
One last thing: Goatwhore! Goatwhore! Goatwhore! 8.00 Eddies.