Review - Soilent Green/Walken @ The Elbo Room

Soilent Green’s Sewn Mouth Secrets managed to seep all the way into Maine’s back woods when I was in high school, their crusty thrasher sound and ADD time-changes carried me through the otherwise boring crap that surrounded me with hopes for better days; last night (6/19/06) at the Elbo Room was one such day. All three bands knew each other and came together for that reason as much as to play metal. Soilent Green drove up from San Diego to play this originally unscheduled show. Mendozza, traveling from Vancouver, covered the most distance and opened the set with slow sludgy riffs. The music reminded me at times of Kyuss and Sleep, at other times of other old extinct bands. The groove was mediocre but their stage presence was lacking.

Next up was Walken, I’d never heard of these guys but they’re from San Francisco and fucking rocked the place. A combination of harmonic guitar work reminiscent of the D.C. scene’s Page 99, Mannequin, and Crestfallen with sudden thrusts of screaming mayhem. Lead singer Shane Bergman kept the audience on its toes with hilarious commentary throughout the set as well as the occasional empty beer can. Walken were getting pummeled with empties by the second song. A couple people commented on the fact that the clean guitar work was sloppy but I can’t dwell on that. The over-all effect was an awesome show and the drunken stumblies over frets was not distracting, perhaps even expected. Shortly afterward I spoke with Sean Kohler (Walken guitarist with silly hat) and told him I wanted the album with the second and last songs they played on it, his response was that those songs will be on the forth-coming album so keep your ears open.


Soilent Green took the stage with a presence of experience and their sound was amazing. Brian Patton’s Mesa Boogie guitar rig was the crunchy tone-filled fuzz almost as it is on the albums, just a little more distorted and FUCKING LOUD. They opened with Forgive & Regret off the new album Confrontation. Next up ripping into the southern-fried Sewn Mouth Secretes. Then back to the new stuff with Leaves Of Three. The changes were all there and brutal as fuck. The pit was soon dominated by inhumanly large dudes and the space before the stage completely bare. A few people mentioned that it was intimidating. I’m no megalithic mastication but I had a great time jumping around. However, having the space so open was a bummer, other than pit it was just a line, two-deep, along the front of the stage screaming with Ben Falgoust. But I wasn’t really paying all that much attention to that as Soilent Green grinded away. They played all of the jazzy interludes on Sewn Mouth Secrets and it felt like we were in the Louisiana swamp drinking fresh lemonade. Hell I even swatted a few flies. The crowd demanded an encore and received one of the heaviest songs I’ve ever heard from Soilent Green. Sick show!!!

TRANSLATION - Rainer Maria Rilke - page a month

The man from Langenau shifts in his saddle and says: “Herr Marquis…”
His neighbor, the small fine Frenchman, had been quick to speak and laugh for the first three days. Now he is absent. He is like a child, that must sleep. Dust comes to rest and stays on his fine white collar; he doesn’t notice it. He has become a faded bouquet in his expensive saddle.
But the man from Langenau laughs and goes on: “Herr Marquis, your eyes are the same. Certainly your mother‘s eyes are the same--”
Then, all at once, the little man comes into bloom, brushes the dust off of his collar, and is like new.

Review - Hank III @ The Fillmore

Last night (6/8/06) the Fillmore Theater’s main floor was alive with boot stompin’ honky-tonkin’, shrill yee-haw’s were in the air, and toward the end of the night a giant circle pit crept up to center stage. Who else could it be, bringing together the elements of quality country and deathmetal, than Hank 3. The Murder Junkies were the opening act, the band formerly headed by G G Allin, featuring the vocals of Jeff Clayton of ANTISEEN. I missed their set due to some last minute whiskey drinkin’. The guy waiting with me for the 22 line to arrive turned out to be going to the same show and so we passed the wait with Jameson. Seven shots and one on the rocks in 45 minutes, not a bad start.

After arriving and getting drinks at the bar we stared at the sold out scene before us, cowboy hats of course, metal and country tour t’s---it was my first time in the theater and now I understand why so many people could call it there favorite venue in San Francisco; the room is huge but not too huge, with tables and balconies, and the stage is the entire width of the room more or less. Joe Buck, the bassist, came on stage while the equipment was being set up and gave one of his traditional snarls; Mohawk a mess dressed in cover-alls he set the crowd cheering. When Hank III, complete with the band, hit the stage the place exploded. He began by asking if everyone was ready to raise some hell tonight cause he was. You can imagine the response.

The first song was the title track off their new album Straight To Hell. They skipped the eerily gospel sounding intro on the album version and started the show off at rocket speed. Hank’s acoustic sounded like crisp metallic machinegun fire and then he broke in: “well, my worn out boots are takin’ me up town/ and I’m lookin’ for trouble and I wanna get loud/ serve me up a drink and I’ll shoot it back down” which seemed rather appropriate for our evening. I noticed that I was one of those obnoxious people who scream the lyrics as loud as they possibly can and that the couple in front of me had relocated, but then I realized also that I was one of hundreds of Hank fans doing so. Plus, wasn’t that what the lyrics were about?

The second song, coming off his original album Risin’ Outlaw, was one of several surprises Hank had in store that night. The next astonishment was Adam McOwen’s fiddle solo. I wish I could convincingly describe the rapid speed and hardcore intensity that he put through those speakers --- it blew away the entire crowd, you could look over and just see jaws across the board flapping in the tonal blast. At the end of the song/solo there was a half-second when everyone was still in shock, a brief glimpse into the swollen awe in everyone’s chest, and then a forest fire of applause. It wasn’t a Gibson Flying V, it was fiddle, but he could tour with Slayer and still kick ass.



Hank and co. must have played almost everything off of Straight To Hell with the crowd backing up the chorus lines and rebel yells in step with the more anti-establishment lyrics. That’s when it began to wear on me, these anti-pop catch-phrases were being gobbled up while some of his more impressive musical feats were passing by unnoticed, but that’s show business, right? The less familiar fans will grab onto the punch lines first, I just hope Hank doesn’t indulge them too much. Besides the new stuff he continued throwing in songs from his first two albums as well as a couple songs that I couldn’t place as covers and might have been brand new material. His cover of Johnny Cash’s Folsom Prison was dead on and felt immortal, just another bad ass country singer carrying on tradition. A pleasant surprise.

Toward the end of the set Joe Buck’s stand up bass was still a-thumpin’ and McOwen’s fiddle fingers a-flyin’ but Hank’s voice began to show the effects his metal sets are taking. The metal fans were growing restless too and after about an hour he closed up shop with Five Shots Of Whiskey, did a brief rockin’ switch with the Damn Band and Gary Lindsay on back up vox, then took intermission. At this point I was totally in the bag what with the many shots and massive hits of weed from pipes, joints and whatever else was being passed around. The rest of the show was spent jumping around in the pit and throwing metal horns to the sky; I think I remember him saying that a song was a Super Joint Ritual cover, the band that Hank joined up with Phil Anselmo from Pantera. Otherwise it was a heavy blur of metal.