Death Rides a Horse

or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Heavy Metal
By: sanbasl

In the super-realistic dystopian representation of the year 2027 in 2006’s Children of Men, Theo Faron (Clive Owen) complains of his ears ringing due to a much to close bomb blast. His ex-wife Julian Taylor (Julianne Moore, happy birthday btw) explains that the ringing of eardrums is actually the last time he will hear that frequency and it is a sort of “swan song”. I know your troubles, Theo.

Somewhere along the way of Bon Iver and Andrew Bird records, I nearly forgot something important: metal can be a very real, very powerful and a VERY badass way of expressing oneself. My experience at DC9 last night ripped me headbanging back to that reality. I won tickets from The AV Club DC to Russian Circles and Young Widows and was pretty pumped about it. Ever since witnessing the metalocalypse at The Mirimar Theatre freshman year while simultaneously upstaging my faves Minus the Bear, Russian Circles have always been on my radar. On the record they work ok, but their brand of cataclysmic post-rock is meant to be live, experienced and fucking blasted.

I searched around a bit before the show to find someone to join me, and I wasn’t too surprised that no one bit. By the time I got to the show, I was actually kind of glad none of my DC acquaintances wanted to come, because it would have been pretty awkward. Everyone at the show looked and smelled like Jimmy John’s employees. I ran into five separate smelly dudes with dark graying hair, beards and the same red flannel, that I (of course) was sporting last night. However, it was refreshing to see no one with socks matching their pocket squares, like much of the DC I have experienced. I settled down pretty close to the stage after Phantom Family Halo finished, because I was expecting Russian Circles to be next. I was mistaken. Dudes, who I thought were roadies, began moving monstrous equipment onto the “stage”, which was really just a step up. Two gigantic full-stacks with four amps were quickly set up and switched on. I asked the sandwich artist next to me who they were and he explained it was Young Widows. I had no idea what I was in for.

House lights were dropped, and immediately spotlights that were lodged inside their amps glared with the first thrash of their instruments. The three-piece band began playing what I can only describe as uncontrolled, yet precise cacophony. I was so bewildered and shocked for the first two minutes: then the breakdown came in. I was head banging like the best of them. Young Widows continued to pulverize my eardrums for nearly an hour, and I kept thanking them for it. As I listened closer, I noticed the serious knack for rhythm they had. The bassist literally used his head for a metronome that knocked down on every odd beat they constructed. By the end of their set my ears were crashing, my head was spinning and my neck was aching. But man was I pumped.

I recognized the members of Russian Circles immediately. As Tim Myers pointed out to me, the drummer looks a lot like Justin Long of annoying Apple fame until you look directly at him, and then you’re terrified. He’s like that baby doll in Sid’s room in Toy Story: he’s kinda cute until you realize he’s missing an eye and constructed out of metal (read: drum kit). For their extensive pedal boards and towering amps, the Circles set up really fast. I guess it’s nice when you don’t have to do mic checks (Check 1, Check 2). And they got right down to it.

I forgot how unfairly talented this band is, but they showed me. They moved through their set the way a conquering tank rolls through new land: slowly but powerful and terrifying all the same. Employing looping stations, delay pedals, a shit-ton of reverb and face-melting tapping, Mike Sullivan showed me what it meant to be one with a guitar. Riffs built upon themselves in a deliberate fashion, giving even Phil Spector goose bumps. Forget the Wall of Sound; they were the Iron Curtain of Sound. And the drumming! Dear lord, the drumming! The sounds were so large, I literally thought the floorboards were going to come crashing down, and we would all fall to our rightful deaths. But they didn’t. Last night’s show may be evidence that the world will end in 2012 if officials allow Russian Circles to keep playing the way they do. I could see their show being the catalyst for the End of Days, forcing John Cusack to fly off a disintegrating runway in real life. At the end of the show I was dizzy from the head crushing abuse I gladly inflicted upon myself.

Last night’s show taught me some important things, namely that there are other counter-culture scenes out there that are doing some real things for progress that isn’t indie rock. I was part of a poorly represented but incredibly enthusiastic movement last night, and that feeling really hard to find. I remembered that metal or hardcore or post-rock or what-have-you doesn’t have to be flashy or theatrical or emo-fied or lame or anything other than just some dudes to be blistering and completely enjoyable. You will very rarely find a more talented musician or a more enthused fan outside of that sub-culture. I also learned that I really need ear plugs.

My ears are in complete disarray today. I didn’t hear my alarm and my balance is still thrown off. If a ring is actually the last time that frequency is heard, I’m hearing less a swan song than a swan chorus. I hope Julian Taylor is wrong, but if she’s not, I guess I’m ok with that.