Heathen dwarfs started small

Travelogue time. The Heathen Crusade took place in a cool little club tucked at the end of a strip mall somewhere between St. Paul and Minneapolis. The front of the place is a tolerable sports bar/restaurant, and there's also a big room with pool tables from which you enter and exit the concert venue. These being humane people, the organizers let you come and go as you pleased, whether to cop a squat in the eatery, duck out to your vehicle to deposit purchases, have a conversation without shouting or otherwise change environments. None of this dictatorial "once you're in, you're in" bullshit. I arrived too late to see the first act, locals Enshrined, but I caught at least some of the other nine.

Autumn Eternal - Not very memorable, but not lousy, either. The Cleveland group obviously listens to a lot of Scandinavian black/death, and I remember hearing some riffs obviously lifted from the Dissection catalogue, although not from any particular song. Not a bad thing, but rather than pump me up with God-hating rage, all it did was remind me that I had just heard the new Dissection material the day before, and how mediocre it sounded after all these years of waiting and making due with knockoffs. (I mean, Naglfar's "I Am Vengeance" is the best Dissection song I've heard in a decade.) In general, Autumn Eternal reminded me of the kind of band you'll see if you go early to a metal show at The Rave in Milwaukee: young, enthusiastic, competent, but too reliant on their influences to make much of an impression. I think one of their songs was about werewolves, which although corny is preferable to another damned metal song about vampires. Those pale motherfuckers are so played out.

Dumah - Now, Dumah (from northern Wisconsin) was the kind of band you used to see cramming the side stages during Milwaukee Metalfest's prime: well-practiced veterans with a more individual sound, yet still not ready for the big leagues. This was mainly a sort of melodic death/black/doom, and aside from some Manowar-y swords n' shields lyrics, their link to the fest's theme is that their melodies sounded more inspired by the grueling Viking tales of Amon Amarth than the typical bouncy Gothenburg gait American bands tend to emulate. The music sounded thick, appropriately war-torn and occasionally quite good. Their singer was a skinny, gothy-looking dude with funny contacts who reminded me of a cross between Dani Filth and Zion from Disinter, not really imposing enough to complement Dumah's meaty presence. This forever-to-be-underground band really has no shot at achieving legendary status as they are, but if I saw them again, I would not be upset.

Typhus - I stepped away for some fresh air after Dumah, expecting Todesbonden to play next, but when I returned, the Minneapolis black metal outfit Typhus stood banging away on stage. I was not familiar with their music, although their song titles and image precede them. I expected some blasting blasphemy of the drooling mongoloid variety, the kind of artless din that makes Marduk look like erudite aesthetes offering a thoughtful critique of Christian doctrine. It sucked that they were playing, as I had intended to go eat dinner when they came on, but now had to stick around so I wouldn't miss Todesbonden. So as I crankily tucked into a fresh Newcastle, I grew surprised that their music was so bracing, oozing melancholy melody in both fast and slow tempos, very grim and "true" '90s black metal. No pummeling death metal drums, a needlessly bludgeoning tool typically employed by Stateside BM hordes. But speaking of BM... the lyrics... oh, gawd. Pure comedy. In quality, it was night and day from what they were playing. I could not help but giggle when faced with the incongruity in taking a dismal, slow-burning melody in the corroded vein of Shining (if I ever allowed myself to listen to the Nazi bastard, I suppose I could say it's handed down from Burzum), calling it "Anal Rape of the Virgin Mary" and rasping over it quite decipherable sub-Deicide lyrics about forceably violating the Holy Mother's holiest of holy orifices. Then they one-upped that charming image by doing a number about having wild sex in a big pile of poo... for SATAAAAN! (Of course.) I think I was pissing this dude off who was standing next to me, because he was rocking out and I could not stop laughing, thinking of these ugly doofuses - one of whom I saw sheepishly applying his fearsome corpse paint in the restroom - engaging in enthusiastic coprophagic orgies. Then I kept imagining the band working the crowd afterwards, trying to get laid: "Hey, hot stuff! Did you see my set? Yeah? What did you think of our song 'Ritual Semen Sacrement [sic]'? Awesome, huh? So, can I buy you a drink?" Very entertaining, but not entirely how Typhus intended it to be. This is the sort of band that continues to give metal its cerebral reputation.

Todesbonden - The most serious sound troubles of the day cropped up for this, the mellowest act on the bill. Todesbonden (das ist deutsch für "bonds of death") are kind of a metallic Renaissance Faire job, complete with keyboards, chimes and a metrosexual fiddler. They aim somewhere between Dead Can Dance and early 3rd and the Mortal, ethnic/ritual mixed with heavy/ethereal. They're fronted by Laurie Ann Haus, a Lisa Gerrard/Stevie Nicks sort of mystical lady singer who used to sing for the gothic neoclassical group Autumn Tears and actually sang back-up in Rain Fell Within the last couple of times I saw that late, lamented goth/doom group. I figured they would at least be interesting, and they were, although I have to say I liked the opening and closing songs the best. These were instrumentals with wordless vocals, building to the kind of powerful, trance-inducing crescendos of rapturous sonic beauty that you want from this sort of thing. The middle of the set had more typical songs which reminded me of Arise From Thorns, although a little slower and heavier. The guitarist had a lot of problems, and the bassist was way too loud, so when he was doing these slow, atmospheric bass lines, it was all "TWUMMM! THRUMM! BRRMMM!" If they tone down the rock aspects in the future, it won't hurt them much, as their less abrasive tendencies seemed more strongly developed.

Novembers Doom - Jesus God. This Chicago doom/death band plays virtually every time I go to a show now. They are good, but I needed to eat, so I just watched them play two songs from the new record and then went out. I bought an energy drink from the dollar store in the strip mall, then stashed it in the car with my Moonsorrow t-shirt and those CDs I wrote about a few days ago. Back inside, I ordered some food and waited. Anyway, why does Novembers Doom's new bassist keep wearing those damn sunglasses on stage? He looks like goddamned Bobby Dall or something. And speaking of stupid-looking glammy schmucks, this seems like a good place to mention the fest's MC. With a hairdo and personality that made me guess he was a fixture on the local "active rock" radio station's morning show and a level of smarm that would turn a lounge singer's stomach, this clown kept the crowd surly with such sunny observations as "Whoo! Typhus was so totally evil!" and "Holy shit! Todesbonden totally kicked my ass!" Juliya from Uranium could have added more intellectual weight to the host role. The guy seemed hard-pressed to come up with cliché "metal" things to yell and was obviously unfamiliar with all the performers, so he kept playing the "Where are you from?" game between bands. I kept thinking of this himbo as the heavy metal Wink Martindale until some dude in the back observed, loudly and accurately,"This guy is like Quagmire with long, blonde hair!" The mental image was dead-on.

The Chasm - I heard my favorite Chicago band cracking skulls in the next room. Yet there I was, stitting at a bar, talking about metal with a friendly scenester dude from Wisconsin (who turned out to be behind the Quagmire line), tossing back many Newcastles, waiting and waiting and waiting for the reuben I ordered in the middle of Novembers Doom's set. When it arrived, it was a delicious reuben, but it caused me to miss a majority of The Chasm. Ever a devisive band, some people see the Mexican natives as goofy old leather-and-spikes-wearing throwbacks nearing Typhus' level of embarrassment. Those people haven't listened closely, or they just can't get their heads around creativity and a range of emotion which deviates from the clinical, predictable style that death metal has become today. For all their sychronized guitar swinging and cornball "True Metal of Death" rhetoric, their onslaught of rampaging thrash and bent melodies really does take on an otherworldly aura. They blend textures and styles like mid-period Enslaved, although the Norwegians didn't have a serious hard-on for obscure early extreme metal. But The Chasm's encyclopedic knowledge of that stuff roots their material in an earthier, more embryonic time, which fits nicely alongside their ancient Aztec conceits. This band has been through some shit, and that they can still make multifaceted riff feasts like "The Spell of Retribution" speaks to their tenacity and talent. I could go on all day about these guys. Wish I could say more about their performance at the Crusade, but I'm sure they wrecked plenty of necks.

Thyrfing - I always thought of these guys as a complete cult band, in that I never see anyone wearing their shirts and I've never met anyone else who seemed very enthused about them. Maybe this is just the American view, since the Swedes often play the summer festivals in Europe and thus probably have a decent following there, whereas this was their first time playing in the States. Anyway, I'm sure I'm in the minority that would downgrade the collective achievements of Enslaved, Mithotyn, Einherjer, Månegarm and even Bathory, but I think Thyrfing's "Vansinnesvisor" is the best Viking metal album ever made (not having heard their new "Farsotstider" yet). While the band's older material was very good folksy black-ish metal, some of the abundant keyboard lines tended to give off a jaunty, fairyland sort of vibe, like friendlier Windir. That all changed when they beefed up in 2002. Imagine the rhythm of a chain gang, grimy hammers clanging in downtrodden unison, and you'll approximate their loping barbarian momentum, which only intensified live. Smeared with mud and stage blood, Thyrfing nailed a thick, powerful groove and highlighted the diversity of their material. This was also the first time the band had Toni Kocmut, the guy who did the clean singing on "Vansinnesvisor," performing with them, so we American fans got an even better show for our patience. In the end, what really impressed me was how closely they could replicate those axe-swinging grooves and sumptuous textures, how full Peter Löf's keys and samples sounded, how well the old material was tweaked to fit Thyrfing's current war-torn style and how many other Americans know these songs, too.

Primordial - Why is it that at most shows I attend, the band I want to see the most always plays second to last? Although I was very charged for all three headliners, these Irishmen made it into my personal top five last year with "The Gathering Wilderness", on one hand a typical Primordial album but on the other a stunning distillation of what sets this band apart. Perhaps the most perfectly named metal band since Amorphis, these guys cultivate a dense, murky, deep-rooted, swirling environment of primal emotion. They certainly sound Celtic, due to their snapping rhythms (drummer Simon O'Laoghaire has evolved into a dynamic genius on a level with Martin Lopez or Daniel Liljekvist) and the the sorts of solemn melodies they subtly employ. But Primordial have evolved past the pipes and mandolins, and back when they sparingly used them they never approached the folky extremes of most culturally-centered metal acts. Instead, they evoke and extol their native culture by playing a highly individualistic type of hybrid metal, and in this they share a trait with The Chasm. I've seen singer Alan Nemtheanga perform on a DVD, but up close the guy is way more intense, theatrically scowling and mugging like a despondent European Jello Biafra. The highlight was probably "The Coffin Ships", pretty much the one "Wilderness" song every review I've seen can agree is completely amazing. The ten-minute epitaph for the lost refugees of the Great Hunger swelled to a crest of somber doom majesty, Nemtheanga wracking his frame into a portrait of near-unbearable grief, pretty much challenging any American of Irish descent in the room to do the same when reflecting upon how they got here. "Gods To the Godless," "Autumn's Ablaze," "To Enter Pagan"... I rocked the hell out, although you can't tell from this picture I found posted on a forum, in which you can clearly see the back of my head during Primordial's set:

Why didn't you tell me I'm getting so thin back there? It may be getting time for the skullet.

Moonsorrow - So sated was I by Primordial's overwhelmingly excellent American debut that I almost felt like leaving when they finished... until I remembered that Moonsorrow was next. Before the fest, I remember wondering why the young Finns were ending the day rather than the previous two veteran bands. Now it's obvious: there's no more appropriate culmination of a long, arduous northern journey through a baleful blizzard and considerable hardship than to finally rest your bones in front of a crackling fire on the mountaintop, a place to reflect upon the cruel beauty and pristine efficiency of the natural world. And that surely describes the Moonsorrow experience. As teenagers, cousins Ville and Henri Sorvali cranked out a few impressive demos, working from the typical black-metal-with-folk-influences template. In short order, they evolved the concept into a canon of rich, cinematic epics evoking the dolor and delight of pre-Christian Lapland, with stein-hoisting Viking choirs, accordions, mouth harps, nature samples and a rich tapestry of charming folk melodies for flavor. (Henri also plays keyboards for ultra-fun doppelgängers Finntroll, who add speed punk and weird humor to that same template for a more drunken, mischievous take on folk metal.) Live, Moonsorrow did without the accoutrements and kicked out a fair amount of rock n' roll grit for a too-short set that proved both boisterous and contemplative. "Sankarihauta" and "Pimeä" were absolutely massive, it was way more fun doing the jolly gang shouts and handclaps in "Kylän Päässä" with other fans than in the car by myself, and the roiling riff that runs throughout their closer, "Ukkosenjumalan Poika," was stuck in my head for the whole drive home.

And that's that. The fest was surprisingly well attended and the audience response rapturous, so here's my wish list for the inevitable Heathen Crusade II: Skyclad, Himinbjorg, Aes Dana, Forefather, Suidakra, Korpiklaani, Ensiferum (so I can ask Meiju to marry me) and... what the hell, how about a live debut by Falkenbach?

If you read all of that, thanks. I promise the next post won't be about Eurometal. Um, go Seahawks, I guess.