WELL WELL WELL kiddies, Vincent and I have lived to tell the tale of the night we saw Carcass, the most brutal and seminal grindcore/death metal band in history.  We were expecting certain destruction, and destruction and brutality was delivered beyond our wildest dreams.

I apologize for the amount of non-Carcass verbiage in this post, but it provides very important context for how hard we rocked this evening.  The story begins after the jump.

Going back in time before the show, things were not looking so good.  It was a struggle just to get going as the evening prior was a little bit rougher than expected, but dressed to impress in non-black (which is more metal that wearing black) we headed out ready to get our rock on.

But mother nature, the strumpet, had a surprise for us, as upon leaving our apartment we were greeted by a torrential downpour and the mugginess of the NYC subway system.  Covered in rain and sweat, happiness was subdued.  We made it to Times Square though, so things were starting to look up …

Until we arrived at TGI Fridays.  Why were we at TGI Fridays you may ask?  Because a) we are jackasses, and b) we had never been to the world’s largest Fridays.

We arrived at the door and noticed the rowdy crowd and scattered Americana throughout the bar.  It reminded me of good ‘ole middle America, and I was ready to share a tall Coors Light and some jalapeno poppers with a fellow red-blooded countryman/woman.  But the hostess sent us up to the 2nd floor.

The 2nd floor looked good too, although not as rambunctious.  The hostess on the 2nd floor sent us to the 3rd.  Strike 2.

The third floor host gave us a table … in the rejector room of Fridays.  I looked around and wondered what we had deserved to get this floor.  THERE WASN’T EVEN A BAR!!!  Not only that, the other patrons all seemed to have something not quite right about them, so immediately we were wondering what everyone thought was wrong with US.

We sat down, got our menus and dropped our heads to the table.  TGI Fridays Times Square is slightly more expensive than your run of the mill stripmall version.  Not only do we get shitty and unhealthy food, but we get to pay extra for it.  America!

We ordered our beers and meals and seemingly had chalked this experience up as a loss, and figured we would down our vittles and make a move to a more appropriate location for pre-gaming for Carcass.  This was however, before the jukebox was interrupted by the sounds of SLAYER PLAYING MOTHER-FUCKING ANGEL OF DEATH.

I shit you not.  You can imagine the looks on Vincent face and mine when the intro kicked in.  We thought we were delusional, until Tom Araya’s hell-sent scream ripped through the Fridays’ sound system.  We were shocked.  Instant multi-recipient text messaging was occurring, laughs and grunts and fist pumps were abound.  And the show hadn’t even begun!  This was a sign.  A sign that this evening was cookie-cut for metal.  Someone somewhere loves us.

After polishing off our fish tacos and several fine cheap light domestic beers, we were still talking about Angel of Death.  Still basking in the moment, minds baffled at the appropriateness of the events so far.  Getting ready to get our check, the jukebox (back to standard shitty restaurant fare) was interrupted again, and this time we were graced with MORBID ANGEL.  They got us again!

This time we looked around the place, wondering if someone was playing a trick on us.  Or trying to think if someone had spiked our beers with LSD.  I asked the waitress what the deal was, and she just said “It’s not the jukebox”.

So we don’t know if it was divine intervention (get it?) or just a chef who loved his metal, plugging in his iPod, but we didn’t care.  It was now officially on.

Carcass wasn’t set to go on until 11:30, so we proceeded to pound several more beverages at your dime a dozen Irish pub in Midtown.  We were sad to miss Rotten Sound/Aborted/1349/Necrophagist, but we needed to ensure we were in the proper mindset for Carcass.  We made our way to Nokia.

Once there there we stood and drooled for a bit at the theater’s sign, marveling at the unreadable logos before our eyes.

Once inside, it was a tough decision whether or not to buy merch first or wait until after the show.  We decided to wait until after.  I’m fairly certain that if I would started early, I would not have been able to stop.  Carcass merch is fantastic, fashion “experts” need to take a hint.  Grindcore t-shirts are the new Fall ’08 hit.

We did make it in time to see Suffocation tear it up, and that was a nice surprise.  I had always like those guys, but seeing them live brings them to an entirely different level in my eyes.  A couple of pics from Suffocation:

By the time Carcass came on, Vincent and I were already deep in Death Metal Heaven (or Hell?).  We were boozy, we saw some live death metal, we ate Fridays.  Oh but we were not through yet.

Carcass took the stage to a deafening roar from the crowd.  What can I say about the show other than it was incredible.  The band was incredibly tight, they played so many of the classics, and blew the crowd away.  Vincent and I spent the first couple of songs down in the pit, pogoing our way to becoming completely drenched in sweat.  I personally lost my mind when the played Corporal Jigsore Quandary.

Once leaving the pit, we spent the rest of the show head banging, air-punching, punching each other, and just generally being drunken death metal retards.  We loved every minute of it.

Ken Owen came on stage and played a bit of a drum ditty.  For those who don’t know, Ken Owen was the original drummer for Carcass and one of the pioneers of death metal drumming.  In 1999, he suffered a brain haemorrhage and spent 10 months slowly recovering in a hospital.  Needless to say, he lost his ability to drum at the same level, but still remains in fans’ hearts.  It was a nice touch to see him, but kinda sad.  It is what it is.

They closed with Heartwork, and as quickly as the show began and became a furry of mindless aggression and release, it ended.  I felt like I did on high school graduation:  the memories were great, I had an amazing time, but I need to just move on.  The past is the past.

We awoke the next day with some of the most brutal headaches/back pains/neck pains ever felt by heavy metal fans.  I could have caused permanent damage.  I could care less.  It was worth it.

Here’s to hoping there’s another tour before it’s all said and done …

Tags: beer, carcass, fridays, grindcore, suffocation, wheelchair

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