The day began with the daily debate of what band T-shirt to wear. I went with my, now freshly cut up, Whitechapel T. Then I was off. Jamming to Warforged on the drive down to Kingman, AZ from Vegas. I dropped by Black Sheep Ink to hit on half of the staff before meeting up with Jessie to deliver her tickets and catch up at a local Starbucks. Taking the scenic route through the winding back roads in a suburban exploration mixed with rock formations and questionably sharp turns and dips.
After people watching a high school debate club and a stick in the mud housewife giving a Starbucks employee grief over a sandwich, we drove back to the area around the venue and grabbed a bite to eat at El Palacio . We were probably some of the youngest and most at tattooed people sitting in this place. Anywho, while I was dripping salsa down my shirt like a retard who can’t eat chips with dip on them, there was a slew of what we thought were larpers or a ren fair club trudging through to the private party space. Then it was off to meet up with one of the bands for an interview (coming soon).
The Sportsmans Club aka Sporty’s is not your average dive bar. Hosting metal shows with a reputation of bringing the house down in the most brutal of fashions. And my dark lord did they not disappoint. Dollar bills with sweet nothings and catch phrases taped up all over the walls. Complete with shuffleboard, pool tables and a jukebox. There is no stage in this joint either. You can get a beer for $4 but tip your bartender because you aren’t a cheap twat and pay $5 instead. You want to get to the bathrooms you are walking through the mosh pit and the bands to make your way there. But don’t worry for the most part the brutality will pause to let you pass.
Everyone made me feel extremely welcome. Especially a couple strange gentleman who had some interestingly unoriginal lines like “where is your boyfriend?” and one after being punched in the face (unintentionally) by me in the pit saying we were “meant to be together”. Some people had been Facebook friends with me for a while and/or followers of ITPW Annie. Some were complete and total strangers who I just clicked with.
First up, Souls Condemned, skipping the whole drum kit load in for a keyboard and drum machine. Representing Kingman’s talent, they started the show off strong with some mad tunes and it wasn’t long before a pit started going. They did a cover from the discology of my beloved Slayer. Closing out their set with a song that brings you back to elementary school On Top Of Spaghetti .
Then the homies from Oppressor God taking the place of Virulent who was unable to make it out for this show. Duuuudes ….like you already know how I feel about this band …Brutal…Melodic….Gage like a fucking guttoral scream machine with his vokills.
Dalton & Justin on guitars just shredding. This is the first time I’ve had the chance to see them with their bassist Tyrel. Never disappointed with them. Playing a full set all while dodging beer bottles and random rager’s. Gage running around screaming in peoples faces.
I was impressed with this venue …like it was pretty packed for Nooses and SC but it just seemed even more so when they came on deck. There was an actual pit worth moshing in. The draw was too strong to stay out ….on the rim or in the middle …headbanging my heart out.
If you haven’t already checked out their EP Mechanical Manslaughter you should. After a much needed holiday break for some family time they are writing again. Playing a new song to melt our faces off. What can you expect in 2019 from OG? Some new ear gouging melt your face off brutality, that’s what.
And now … the piece de resistance, I, Pariah. the George Orwell totalitarianism society inspired 5 piece from Phoenix came back to their second home for a special night to release their new EP Hate Prayer. Book ending their set with songs from their 2017 EP War Engine. They played HP from front to back ending their set with the 2017 EP title track.
Between them and OG there were a good amount of beer bottles flung / smacked out of peoples hands. Those in the crowd whether in or out of the pit rushed to clear the glass away so that no one came to a discomforting end of their fun night. One dude almost fell ass first into half of a broken bottle sharp side facing up. That would have been fairly unpleasant for him. Thankfully no one really got hurt (unless you count the 3 dudes who I very much so accidentally punched in the face) .
I pushed another slam dancer directly onto the infamous wheels …he was a good sport about it. Fell out of his chair, got picked up, and got right back at it. This dude is the real deal. I heard stories in not one but 3 different band interviews so far. And this night was the night I got to mosh with him. IP kept the crowd moving and cheering until the sweaty bitter end. We all swallowed and gasped for air … fanning ourselves after such an intense session. (i’m talking about moshing you sick fucks).