Story and Photos: Brian Schmidt
I arrived at The Reverb just in time for the first band to start, sober of course. Weaving Shadows floated above the crowd of stragglers in a heavy green cloud, bringing with them the classic doom sound, bass heavy lumbering guitar riffs, groovy Bill Ward style drums, and meandering vocals (or death growls in this instance,) interjected every now and then to bring variety to the drone.
The band played to a smoke machine, which was practically a fifth member, completely enveloping them during a large portion of their set, providing just the right ambiance to enjoy the experience, at least for a very much sober me and the maybe 30 people that trickled in. (To be fair, Snoop Dogg was literally playing one town over in Lincoln.) I was also excited to see Mason Weber on drums, who is also the drummer for TerraDactyl, the guy from the Whitmore show I covered last week whose name I could not remember. We love Mason and definitely did not forget his name was Mason!
Check out Weaving Shadows’ sludgy tomes at https://weavingshadows.bandcamp.com/releases
After Weaving Shadows warmed up the crowd Ten Trillion Beryllium Ships, whose name I can only spell after misspelling it several times while writing this article, waltzed on stage playing their ™Ten Trillion Beryllium Corp. flavor of Doom.
While sporting a similar stage presence to their opener, Beryllium set their sound apart with some more proggy elements, playing separate rhythms against each other across instruments. One particularly interesting segment had the strings section playing triplets over the top of the drums blasting a particularly funky 32nd notes run. It was the musical equivalent to riding your horse through the marsh, battle axe in hand, clad in full battle armor aside from your favorite Dopethrone shirt. I also enjoyed their self-proclaimed closest thing to an anthem/anti-anthem, where the lead singer/guitarist promised “This one is faster,” followed by the band playing maybe 10 beats per minute faster, only to have the band bring the song to an even slower pace during the “breakdown.” I think he lied to us dude!
One of the things I love about Doom metal, is that if you can surrender to the vibe, it can feel like you’re high even if you aren’t. The looming droll becomes a part of you after a while, especially when played live where the bass messages your brain into a state of relaxation. I was especially feeling this during Beryllium, and it was honestly very much needed after my busy week. My notes read “camera feels heavy, everything feels heavy. This band feels good.” I swear I was sober.
You can purchase Ten Trillion Beryllium Ships, or at least their music, at https://trilliontonberylliumships.bandcamp.com
Up next was Cheap Porno Flick, and in between sets I heard this dude let out the gnarliest belch, the kind of oral protrusion that would wake a giant from his hundreds of thousands of years slumber, followed by a polite bystander nicely shouting, “bless you,” which pretty much sums up the band. The boys sauntered onto the stage with the fervor, testosterone, and aggression of a Mad Max villain, with lead singer Ben promptly removing the majority of his clothes, leaving a crusty laundry pile on the floor.
Cheap Porno Flick injected some much-needed energy to the stoney crowd with their “Cheesy and sleazy old school Grind,” Grindcore. This is my bread and butter, and while I was “feeling myself” during the past few bands, I truly “felt myself” during their set with their fast and heavy minute thirty tracks. CPF got the very much deserved first pit of the night with their track, Section 54. The pit was actually started by this cool as heck blind dude, who was definitely the hardest dude at the show. I saw several people helping him around the bar. I love the metal community!
You can find lead singer Ben’s secret sex tape on the band’s linktree https://linktr.ee/cheappornoflick. Well, maybe just their music.
Up next was my favorite local band of all time (sorry Flakus,) and headliner Orpheus, who, as always, brought a large crowd with them. I swear the amount of people tripled once lead singer/guitar wizard Coop Schuh started his sound check. If you haven’t heard Orpheus, where have you been? It’s tech-death at its finest placed between the soft local cheeks of the Schuh brothers. It’s no wonder they draw such a crowd with their virtuoso level of bass and guitars, which caress intricate arpeggios with precision, along with their bone beating drums that pummel audiences with a level of skill akin to that of Bruce Lee, not to mention Coop’s banshee screams, a la Chuck Schuldiner of Death, which bring a primal, old school 90’s death metal feel to their sound. Long story short, Orpheus SLAPS!
Orpheus’ set was skull thrashing fun; heads were banging, bodies were moving, and pits were circling. At one point the band announced that the 2 craziest people during their next song would win a bong that the band had very un-sneakily snuck backstage in between sets. Of course, the blind guy won one of them, (like I said, dude was the realest.) Another metal AF moment was when the crowd started feeding the band raw hot-dogs. (I swear I was sober; I have pics to back it up.) Band members took bites while performing, which is impressive considering how technical their songs are. I met with one of the hot dog slingers after the show. Dude legit had a whole pack of them in the pocket of his camo cargo pants. I cannot imagine lukewarm pocket dogs taste all that great.
Honestly the band’s set felt entirely too short. I had just packed up my camera in hopes of ditching it with my buddy so I could get in the pit, when the band said good night. I looked at my phone and it was ONLY 11pm. Thankfully, the local Beercade down the street was open and my buddy Brandon and I had a hankering for some TMNT arcade. (Again, very much sober the entire night, I swear I’m not lying.)
You can listen to the taste the lukewarm pocket dogs at https://open.spotify.com/artist/5EnMzd5d3Iqii6UKUoFy1R?si=d3ObXPFESNKpsryh0p0VuA
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Orpheus
Cheap Porno Flick
Ten Trillion Beryllium Ships
Weaving Shadows
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