As hot as it was for a Saturday afternoon, things were undoubtedly preparing to get hotter at The Tote. Late in the afternoon and coursing between the hum of engines and the gusts that the cars left as they drove by, a pounding thump rang throughout Johnston Street. Fire and brimstone was emitting in aural form from The Tote, the shriek of guitars cutting shrill through the stagnant summer air like church bells on a Sunday morning. Responsible for this dark cacophonic sermon were none other than sludge chaplains Bog, unleashing militant drumming and howling like wolves to the invisible moon.
Featuring a good serving of refined ominous tones, Bog added a much needed thump to their own brand of hook filled sludge metal. There was a familiar grungy low end to their songs, taking a great mix of subtly rock influenced song structure and drowning it out with iron-heavy sludge/doom segments. At times the low end was so crushingly hard, the air itself seemed to tremble in fear whilst the band shrieked on in commanding terror. The fantastic blend of both ambient segments and butcherous riffing was truly something to behold.
Plenty more bands rolled through, each added high talent and some sort of different sound to the mix. Gvrrls added a pummelling and relentless brand of familiar hardcore, taking distinct cues from the mid 2000s sound and Pissbolt ripped out short as fuck and twice as fierce grindcore tunes. Above all this, Brazen Bull pulled out an incredible brand of Brisbane grindcore, featuring possibly some of the most incredible instrumentation ever. Without going too deep into details, their bass player managed to incorporate rapid bass slaps in between intricate bass riff work to devastating effect, only matched by his vicious showmanship.
In the breaks between sets, everyone took to the beer garden to bask in the warmth of the summer evening. Jovial conversations were chirping through an ocean of beards, hair and sweat, only broken by puffs from cigarettes or a mouthful of beer. The members of Bog had circled around the barbecue, and with spatula in hand and sizzle in the air they generously kept everyone fed with either hash browns or saussages. Everything would remain peaceful until another band tore the silence from the air like mere cobwebs.
Of all the acts that passed through the day, one to pay attention to were Japanese metal act Ithaqua. A four piece that consisted of guitarist, bassist, drummer and an on-stage sound engineer, who would manipulate tones from clean to sharply distorted, add reverb, drench the stage in washing feedback amongst other intricacies. Their music was full of rich sludge landscapes – ranging from the devastatingly hard to more regimented grooves. The riffs were centralised on giving people something to bang their head to, and the crowd involvement was highly reflective of this. Many a horn was flicked, many a fist was thrown into the air, all done in perfect unison. A fresh take on a classic sound, and perfect centrepiece to a perfect day of metal.
Loved: Eating snags and talking shit with band dudes.
Hated: Not bringing earplugs, really wanted to check out Greytomb but fuck me I would have gone deaf.
Drank: I was hungover and puking until 3pm from the previous night. I drank water.
BY THOMAS BRAND
Photo by Sally Townsend
