Dunno if this is a good idea for a thread or not, or if it's in the right or wrong place, but I just remembered seeing Griftegård live at Dublin Doom Day whenever that was and being floored by them. I liked the album, no doubt about it, but I think the songs took on a whole new depth and power live. They sounded slower to me, and more stripped back than on the album, and came off as being darker, heavier and more compelling. I remember there was a real sparseness to the sound, and I mean that in a good way, with the great vocals soaring with absolute power. It was a mesmerising gig and one I haven't thought about in a long time.
Another one, slightly more silly, that comes to mind was down at Day of Darkness in around 07 or 08 and myself and Open Face Surgery, drunk as mules, sitting in my old purple Ford Ka (what??) and singing along to Footprints by Warning. Possibly twice in a row... then getting out of the car and chatting with the singer from Graveyard Dirt, and between him being fucked and me being fucked and him having the strongest Donegal accent in, eh, Donegal, I couldn't understand a fucking word. But sure, we had a laugh all the same :laugh:
What sort of silly, funny, profound or otherwise memories do you have around this little subculture of ours?
Ah jesus loads, even if some of them might be a bit detached. One I think of a lot is that Enslaved / Zyklon / 1349 gig in the Village years back, maybe 07 or 08 again. Great craic with good people but two things are etched into my mind forever - the lad from 1349 setting his face on fire during their intro by mistake, and lads getting sucked into the zyklon moshpit at the speed of the strobe light from the edge of the crowd. And also the bass cutting during the kick in of "Fusion of Sense and Earth" in Enslaved's set but we'll forgive that. A fun and deadly gig that I can't forget.
The first Siege I attended too - Easter 2010, when they were still in Baker's place. Having been to a good load of the gigs in the Precinct (ahh Metal After Mass) I had assumed this would be similar but all day, few local heads and pints, but I was met with cracking weather and hundereds of lads on a monumental rip across the three bars. It was serious festival atmosphere, too hammered to deal with living before the sun even went down but somehow stayed going. It is also sealed to my memories.
Another one springs to mind. It was around 91 or 92 so I was 9 or 10 and walking through town with my parents. I was proudly wearing my new Metallica 'One' tshirt and feeling like a proper little rocker and three or four older rockers (they were probably 14 or 15 which was old and wise to me at that age) walked by and threw me the horns. I felt so cool :laugh:
Quote from: ochoill on August 06, 2022, 01:45:58 PMAh jesus loads, even if some of them might be a bit detached. One I think of a lot is that Enslaved / Zyklon / 1349 gig in the Village years back, maybe 07 or 08 again. Great craic with good people but two things are etched into my mind forever - the lad from 1349 setting his face on fire during their intro by mistake, and lads getting sucked into the zyklon moshpit at the speed of the strobe light from the edge of the crowd. And also the bass cutting during the kick in of "Fusion of Sense and Earth" in Enslaved's set but we'll forgive that. A fun and deadly gig that I can't forget.
The first Siege I attended too - Easter 2010, when they were still in Baker's place. Having been to a good load of the gigs in the Precinct (ahh Metal After Mass) I had assumed this would be similar but all day, few local heads and pints, but I was met with cracking weather and hundereds of lads on a monumental rip across the three bars. It was serious festival atmosphere, too hammered to deal with living before the sun even went down but somehow stayed going. It is also sealed to my memories.
id still rank that Enslaved gig in my top 5 all time gigs,incredible.
Central Bank Steps And A shit Load of Boss Cider :)
When I think of the Central Bank steps it makes me remember why I didn't get more into black metal in the 90s. The BMers always seemed so dorky to me with their leather tench coats, leather pants, New Rocks and jewellery. It was too gothy and fruity looking for me back then. I liked a few bands but it wasn't till later that I got into it properly, and I was allergic to that sympho Dimmu Borgir stuff, although I'm more open to it now.
Quote from: Eoin McLove on August 07, 2022, 01:53:52 AMWhen I think of the Central Bank steps it makes me remember why I didn't get more into black metal in the 90s. The BMers always seemed so dorky to me with their leather tench coats, leather pants, New Rocks and jewellery. It was too gothy and fruity looking for me back then. I liked a few bands but it wasn't till later that I got into it properly, and I was allergic to that sympho Dimmu Borgir stuff, although I'm more open to it now.
I often thought I was better off not having a metal scene or metal friends around me when I was younger. Other peoples personalities could put you off a lot of things. I also listened to a lot of hardcore and other odds and ends back then too without anyone taking the piss out of me.
Oh yeah, I listened to hardcore and punk too. It was just a big mix of anything that was current that caught my ear, some good, some awful in retrospect.
Quote from: Paul keohane on August 07, 2022, 12:39:20 AMQuote from: ochoill on August 06, 2022, 01:45:58 PMAh jesus loads, even if some of them might be a bit detached. One I think of a lot is that Enslaved / Zyklon / 1349 gig in the Village years back, maybe 07 or 08 again. Great craic with good people but two things are etched into my mind forever - the lad from 1349 setting his face on fire during their intro by mistake, and lads getting sucked into the zyklon moshpit at the speed of the strobe light from the edge of the crowd. And also the bass cutting during the kick in of "Fusion of Sense and Earth" in Enslaved's set but we'll forgive that. A fun and deadly gig that I can't forget.
The first Siege I attended too - Easter 2010, when they were still in Baker's place. Having been to a good load of the gigs in the Precinct (ahh Metal After Mass) I had assumed this would be similar but all day, few local heads and pints, but I was met with cracking weather and hundereds of lads on a monumental rip across the three bars. It was serious festival atmosphere, too hammered to deal with living before the sun even went down but somehow stayed going. It is also sealed to my memories.
id still rank that Enslaved gig in my top 5 all time gigs,incredible.
I had great craic at that one myself. Thought Zyklon were brilliant. One of my favourite metal memories from being a young chap is making the odd pilgrimage to the Sound Cellar where they actually had all the metal albums I ever wanted. I used to hope I'd grow up to be one of the lads leaning on the counter in there
I have two funny memories of Onstage Music, a little second hand guitar shop that used to exist on Abbey Street. Judas used to work there at one point and myself and my friend used to drop in from time to time as young lads.
One day we are in there and Judas corners us and asks us if we know Wasp.
Yeah.
I have Blackie Lawless's circular saw armbands in my gaff if you want to buy them?
Eh, no thanks...
Just think about it. You're at a gig and someone pulls out an iron bar to smash over your head. You say, hang on a sec, run home and grab your blades and chop the fucking thing in half!
I pissed myself and legged it :laugh:
Another time in there and I'm pricking around on a guitar. I go to put it back on the wall and it slips off the hook, flips around and slides face first down the brick wall, thumping onto the floor! The owner just looks at me and shakes his head. I stick it back on the hook and leg it out the door. I expected him to make me buy the fucking thing but perhaps it didn't occur to him :laugh:
Another time in Sound Cellar, a quiet Saturday morning and Tommy starts chatting to myself and my mate. He tells us this mad story about some lad who used to be in there all the time and has all the Slayer albums on vinyl. He takes them out to clean them one day and his dad, walking by, accidentally kicks them over.
No word of a lie, lads... He burnt the fucking house down!
I pissed myself and legged it :laugh:
The Chaos Descends bunk bed incident will stay with me as long as I live
Death in McGonagles Feb 92.The whole show was in doubt right up to when Chuck took to the stage fairly late.They crammed two nights into one in what was surly a record crowd for the venue,any more would have been Hillbouroughesq. Pestilence were a no show with loudblast providing very solid support.I have yet to experience an atmosphere at a show that comes close to when Death began.Nine tunes of the most seminal death metal ripped through in 40 odd minitues with Chuck at his menacing best. Not a very active frontman but the intensity from the head of him when balefully scanning the crowd was a wonderful thing.Even with a short set/no encore everyone left satisfied and seemed to recognise it as a special night,all the more poignant for what was to follow
Why so short, were his health problems starting then?
Death was quite reasonable compared to the two Ozzy gigs. They were insanely packed. It was gas afterwards when people looked like they were gently smouldering coming out of McGonagles with the amount of steam billowing off them into the night.
A memory of that Death gig, though not quite so fond, was after the gig. There was a bit of violence outside, and I had no money for the bus so was walking home, and headed onto Dawson Street to start making my way south.
As I neared the end of the street, a lad pegged it by me, shortly afterwards followed by the same group of cunts who were fighting outside the venue. They headed towards the top of Grafton Street after yer man, so I cut across to the Green. I was going towards Harcourt Street anyway. Just as I got across the road, I saw the last one of the group had turned around and started walking my direction.
Bollocks.
He started the "Were you lookin' at me?" shite. It sounds stupid, but I had gotten a stick from Reinert at the end of the gig and my first thought was "How do I get out of this with this stick?" which was hidden up the sleeve of my leather jacket.
I noticed more of the pack had stopped chasing yer man and were now coming over too. I was 6'3" when I was 16 and usually avoided shit like this as a result. I was fucked now, though.
I was making it very clear to the first guy that I wasn't looking for trouble, was just walking home because I had no money even for the bus.
"Yeah, you were, you were looking at me!"
I was now circled, all the cunts had cone over. Again, I just repeated that I was walking home and wasn't looking for trouble. They were just waiting for me to make a move. They just wanted a reason to kick my fucking head in.
The first guy now changed course. "Gimme your jacket!"
The stick!!!
I continued to repeat the same line, not looking for trouble, just walking home.
First guy put his hand in his trackie top pocket. "Gimme your jacket or I'll knife ye!"
Ah fuck.
"I'm not looking for trouble, man, I'm just walking home."
At this point, one of the circle, probably seeing there was no sport in this hunt, intervened and said to them "Ahh, he's alright! I know him!"
He turned to me and said "You're alright, John, go on." and nodded at me to move on. I'd never been called John before, but I was happy to be John right then.
I mumbled thanks to yer man and walked to the memorial gate of the Green and, once out of sight, ran in a manner I was never capable of, before or since, to the far end of Harcourt Street until I could barely breathe. I still kept walking, though, and didn't stop for another 6 miles or so until I got home.
I still have that fucking stick, all the same.
Quote from: Carnage on August 07, 2022, 03:44:20 PMWhy so short, were his health problems starting then?
short because everything started late,very late as I remember and some fancy stuff on there afterwards.Chuck himself in top form.
Ah yeah, I did ok. At Kreator in the Top Hat, I came away with 7 plecs and a stick. Mille just kept coming over to where I was at the barrier and... yoink, thanks! 😂
The lad that robbed the tour bus didn't come away with as much.ya must have a fine collection at this stage.Only managed one lousy pick ever and it hardly counts as I had to ask for it after the show
A very personal metal memory here but I can still remember the week I realised I didn't actually like nu metal and was just idly listening to it, and it was when I swapped a copy of NIN "Fixed" for both Korn "Issues" and Methods of Mayhem's s/t. Quantity over quality there. Deeply regretted the swap in absolutely no time. Horseshit. My first ever gig was Korn all the same, a year later, and I enjoyed it too.
A lot of my metal memories are more in line with that or stupid things happening at gigs. I saw Astfgyl get hit in the hole by a car outside Metallica years back too, he swore he was grand then spent the rest of the gig in a squat on the ground. Unreal
Edit, re. that Metallica gig - they were touring St. Anger (downer) with Linkin Park (downer) and The Darkness (downer). Enjoyed it though, still a decent set off Metallica, and my first proper crowdsurf, up during Battery for ages looking back into the stadium crowd going spare, thinking "this is fuckin lethal", 16 years old. Then was dropped down over the barrier where someone grabbed my jocks from the top of my pants while security were dragging me down. They managed to rip them clean off my body from under my jeans. Security let me back in through the back of the crowd, where eventually I found the other lad still squatting and trying to tell me he was enjoying himself
I remember my brother had Girls,Girls, Girls on tape and I thought it was so heavy!
Back then Top Of The Pops used to play a video during the closing credits. Paradise City came on.
It was like lightning in my brain. It blew me away. Then I was given a copy of Master Of Puppets, The Real Thing and Arise.
I got about 5 seconds into Battery then switched it off as I thought it m was going to be some acoustic shit. What a fool!!!!
Faith No More was another light bulb moment and Sepultura scared the shit out of me but I knew I was hooked.
My first proper gig was Sunstroke 94.
Myself and my friend went hell for leather on the mosh pit as soon as we got in. By the time Helmet finished their set we were fit for bed.
Therapy? could have set fire to themselves and I wouldn't have noticed.
I also thought I was a hippitty hop king during IceCube.
Quote from: ochoill on August 08, 2022, 01:35:47 PMA very personal metal memory here but I can still remember the week I realised I didn't actually like nu metal and was just idly listening to it, and it was when I swapped a copy of NIN "Fixed" for both Korn "Issues" and Methods of Mayhem's s/t. Quantity over quality there. Deeply regretted the swap in absolutely no time. Horseshit. My first ever gig was Korn all the same, a year later, and I enjoyed it too.
A lot of my metal memories are more in line with that or stupid things happening at gigs. I saw Astfgyl get hit in the hole by a car outside Metallica years back too, he swore he was grand then spent the rest of the gig in a squat on the ground. Unreal
Edit, re. that Metallica gig - they were touring St. Anger (downer) with Linkin Park (downer) and The Darkness (downer). Enjoyed it though, still a decent set off Metallica, and my first proper crowdsurf, up during Battery for ages looking back into the stadium crowd going spare, thinking "this is fuckin lethal", 16 years old. Then was dropped down over the barrier where someone grabbed my jocks from the top of my pants while security were dragging me down. They managed to rip them clean off my body from under my jeans. Security let me back in through the back of the crowd, where eventually I found the other lad still squatting and trying to tell me he was enjoying himself
I was enjoying myself it was just that Linkin Park were giving me the shitting pains was all it was nothing to do with the car in the arse. Have to say LP were the least live sounding live band I've ever seen.
One of my favourite memories at any gig was at Deicide when Glen Benton started acting hardy after being hit with a plastic cup but got instantly put back in his box when a big lump of an Eastern European lad in a wifebeater was pointed out as the culprit. Actually his offstage voice was hilarious as well when I bumped into him before the gig.
1_cp55p4DEaoS1lziguuQWhw.jpeg
Came across this from an Fugazi show in McGonagles,a great pic with alot going on.Wasn't at it but it brought back memories of a day when aggressive exuberance was not only welcomed but expected
Quote from: Eoin McLove on August 06, 2022, 12:18:48 PMAnother one, slightly more silly, that comes to mind was down at Day of Darkness in around 07 or 08 and myself and Open Face Surgery, drunk as mules, sitting in my old purple Ford Ka (what??) and singing along to Footprints by Warning. Possibly twice in a row... then getting out of the car and chatting with the singer from Graveyard Dirt, and between him being fucked and me being fucked and him having the strongest Donegal accent in, eh, Donegal, I couldn't understand a fucking word. But sure, we had a laugh all the same :laugh:
What sort of silly, funny, profound or otherwise memories do you have around this little subculture of ours?
:laugh: Only the vaguest of memories of that one. Well, I remember the Donegal accent and the Dummu Borgir shirt he was wearing with slits on the elbows for some reason.
Crowdsurfing during the middle riff of Angel of Death in The Point in 01.
That Enslaved gig was September 06 and amazing. Time flies.
I think there may have been a few spritzers on board!
The last Day Of Darkness I was at had Primordial as headliners and I'm sure Abaddon Incarnate too. They were heavy as hell that day.
I bought a six feet under cd amd a demo from a band called Moonfog.
Them I had fun with a lady on the bus home. I ruled!!
A bit of a "totes random" memory here, but I remember as a young lad, very early 90s it would have been I think, and going swimming in Stewart's in Palmerston and in the changing room seeing a canvas school bag from, presumably, an older kid. It was covered in metal logos but the one that sticks out in my memory was the Pestilence logo. Over the decades I've sometimes wondered who it might have belonged to and if it might have been one of the Morphosis dudes who lived close by in Lucan...
Quote from: Eoin McLove on August 10, 2022, 08:49:15 AMA bit of a "totes random" memory here, but I remember as a young lad, very early 90s it would have been I think, and going swimming in Stewart's in Palmerston and in the changing room seeing a canvas school bag from, presumably, an older kid. It was covered in metal logos but the one that sticks out in my memory was the Pestilence logo. Over the decades I've sometimes wondered who it might have belonged to and if it might have been one of the Morphosis dudes who lived close by in Lucan...
Slightly similar but older, I was around 15 and helping our old youth club clear out a room they were renting in the town, over a funeral home (which has another few related odd memories as a kid). There was a part we never used and I was asked to haul some furniture out to a skip. Among them all was an old chair, beige canvas and steel frame. The back of it was covered in faded 80s metal names - in particular I remember Venom, Accept, Sodom, and Bathory on it. I knew these bands by name but had only ever listened to Venom.
I asked the YC staff about it, they had no idea who drew on it, "it's been here like that since we had the rooms, so it must have been done beforehand". They were in this building since the mid 90s so it was done long enough before then for it to be abandoned to them as a spare. Something compelled me to take it home, even though I knew fuck all of the bands on it, the thought of this odd little relic from a metalhead a decade or so previous struck me, it would be like someone finding my old green canvas backpacks.
So it sat in the room, with meself and the brothers laughing at it every now and again, wondering who in the town tagged the chair with all this 80s metal, but it was still up at home last time I was there, with the names basically faded off it now.
Yeah it went nowhere but it's a metal memory.
:laugh: That's magic. The amount of bands who I was familiar with by name and logo/ artwork/ imagery alone as a kid, some of whom I developed a liking for as I got older, and some of whom I still haven't really delved into. I find the majority of my taste over the past few years has been at the older end of the spectrum (a bit like myself) so I'm sure I'll get around to all of it in good time.
I loved the risk of pre-internet times, seeing band names scrawled on jackets and bags and, based on the other band logos there you might know and like, deciding it might be worth a gamble picking up an album by them. Similarly, seeing band names on t-shirts worn in pictures by bands you like or mentioned in thanks lists, sort of a quality assurance by association thing. I got into loads of bands in this way, taking a chance on buying something by bands I had never heard a note of, going on where I'd seen their name combined with the label they were on, the artwork, all that sort of stuff.
I was thinking about this thread earlier and one of my favourite memories of the teen metal days has to be putting on a Lamentations/Unearthly/Dreamsfear/Morningstar gig in Gerry's in Waterford when we were all about 15/16, back when apparently letting a bunch of clearly underage kids do a gig in the back of your pub on a Saturday afternoon seemed totally acceptable. Absolute mayhem, bunch of folks travelled from all over, I think Darragh or Quirkey ended up on door duties at some point?
Morningstar (some of whom I think went on to Geasa later) had a singer who did the full corpsepaint/robes thing and did some sort of mock communion thing which the ould one who ran the place had a shit fit over. Very fond memories of piling back to my gaff after and staying up all night talking shite, sneaking in to the kitchen to watch Anathema on Raw Power or whatever at about 1 amwhile trying not to wake my ma..ah the innocence of youth! I actually have pictures somewhere of the gang of us in my gaff, but none of the actual gig - there was a video of it somewhere but fuck knows where it went.
I could be wrong but I'm fairly sure that was the only show Unearthly ever played? Think they played a Gorefest cover that I did vocals for if my memory serves me right also. The night definitely ended with some sort of "Midnight Mountain" cover/free for all.
That chair story is great ochoill! :abbath:
Also kinda sounds like the basis of a Richard Brautigan story, where the chair's unknown metal story takes on a life of its own and unfolds as it sits alone in an empty room :laugh:
As for my own metal memories, jesus, wouldn't even know where to start, even though I'm sure loads of ye have many, many more than I do.
Yeah, there's a Ray storyline waiting to happen with heavy metal chair ::)
:laugh: I must take a photo of the chair next time I'm up home. It can live on again through the marvel of the internet.
I have more funny ones regarding gigging back home too, I'll lash them in another day. I also deeply wish I had photos from when meself and Astfgyl started Antihuman years ago because it was the most utterly DIY horror going, ye wouldn't fuckin believe the cut of the shed where we used to practice, or how we recorded. I got attacked by a nest of Robins once in there because of how loud the guitar was while recording, and I couldn't get out of the way, there were too many lawnmowers and cabinets to climb over, so I had to just get on with it. That take also made it onto the album.
There was a laneway between houses on the way to school wih metal bands' names (not logos unfortunately) grafittied all over it, but all were mispelled; Naplam Death, Megadeath and the old classic, Morbid Angle. Pretty sure it who it was that did it, as we used to trade albums back in the day.
Out of all the gigs we played in Ireland, one does actually stand out when reading Andy's story about the Donegal accent; the first time we (pre Era V., when we were still Gambit) played up north, in Ballymoney to be precise, home at the time to Putrefy and, unbeknownst to us before arriving, a prominent unionist stronghold.
It was our first time playing outside of Dublin/Wicklow and we hiked up, train to Belfast, then another to Ballymoney itself. Our drummer at the time fancied himself a proper rock 'n roller, although only in the chemical sense, and I knew he had supplies on him. No sooner does the train pull out of Dublin then he's out of his seat and heading for the jacks to get a line or two into him. "Here man," I says to him, it being around 11 in the morning, "Pace yourself, yeah?" The perfect answer he gave off the cuff had the rest of us in stitches; "I am pacing myself. Starting now." :laugh:
When we eventually made it to Ballymoney, we walk out the train station and there's Union Jack bunting absolutely fucking everywhere, zig-zagging all along the main street all the way up. Seriously unnerving and unwelcoming stuff; didn't know where we were and didn't want to open our southern mouths to ask anyone. Then the comprehension difficulties began; I rang Jason (Putrefy's drummer, whose old MI handle I can't remember right now... edit: rapistofrednecks??) to ask for directions. He answers, seems to understand what I ask him, but I can't make out a single word from the stream of nordy gurning. "Can you send me a text message?"
Grand, get to the venue. Drummer disappears immediately to the jacks. Now we're sitting with a pint outside of the venue, glad to be "safe" surrounded by metallers rather than orangemen, and Jason starts talking again. Seriously, the lad has the strongest accent I've ever heard in Ireland outside of the deepest depths of the Kerry gaeltacht. I'm getting about two words per sentence, but that's enough to gather that what he's saying is, "I haven't listened to yer music, but I just hope yer brootal. We've loadsa bands come up say they're gonna be brootal but then they're not brootal at all." We were not, nor had ever said we were, "brootal". At the time, Gambit still even had some remnants of nu-metal influence from two of the founding members, now since ejected. Anyway, we're thinking, "Fuck, we are going to bomb." Sinister Demise were the other band on the line-up, so, yeah, in terms of being "brootal", we were going to stick out like a clean thumb on a hand of bludgeoned fingers. Needless to say, next time I spotted the drummer heading off, I tagged along, despite the danger of being murdered by any locals who might have walked in to find two southern lads cramped into a cubicle together. Then we went out and performed a profusely sweaty, thoroughly unbroootal set and got the fuck out of there.
Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 01:56:44 PMOut of all the gigs we played in Ireland, one does actually stand out when reading Andy's story about the Donegal accent; the first time we (pre Era V., when we were still Gambit) played up north, in Ballymoney to be precise, home at the time to Putrefy and, unbeknownst to us before arriving, a prominent unionist stronghold.
It was our first time playing outside of Dublin/Wicklow and we hiked up, train to Belfast, then another to Ballymoney itself. Our drummer at the time fancied himself a proper rock 'n roller, although only in the chemical sense, and I knew he had supplies on him. No sooner does the train pull out of Dublin then he's out of his seat and heading for the jacks to get a line or two into him. "Here man," I says to him, it being around 11 in the morning, "Pace yourself, yeah?" The perfect answer he gave off the cuff had the rest of us in stitches; "I am pacing myself. Starting now." :laugh:
When we eventually made it to Ballymoney, we walk out the train station and there's Union Jack bunting absolutely fucking everywhere, zig-zagging all along the main street all the way up. Seriously unnerving and unwelcoming stuff; didn't know where we were and didn't want to open our southern mouths to ask anyone. Then the comprehension difficulties began; I rang Jason (Putrefy's drummer, whose old MI handle I can't remember right now... edit: rapistofrednecks??) to ask for directions. He answers, seems to understand what I ask him, but I can't make out a single word from the stream of nordy gurning. "Can you send me a text message?"
Grand, get to the venue. Drummer disappears immediately to the jacks. Now we're sitting with a pint outside of the venue, glad to be "safe" surrounded by metallers rather than orangemen, and Jason starts talking again. Seriously, the lad has the strongest accent I've ever heard in Ireland outside of the deepest depths of the Kerry gaeltacht. I'm getting about two words per sentence, but that's enough to gather that what he's saying is, "I haven't listened to yer music, but I just hope yer brootal. We've loadsa bands come up say they're gonna be brootal but then they're not brootal at all." We were not, nor had ever said we were, "brootal". At the time, Gambit still even had some remnants of nu-metal influence from two of the founding members, now since ejected. Anyway, we're thinking, "Fuck, we are going to bomb." Sinister Demise were the other band on the line-up, so, yeah, in terms of being "brootal", we were going to stick out like a clean thumb on a hand of bludgeoned fingers. Needless to say, next time I spotted the drummer heading off, I tagged along, despite the danger of being murdered by any locals who might have walked in to find two southern lads cramped into a cubicle together. Then we went out and performed a profusely sweaty, thoroughly unbroootal set and got the fuck out of there.
Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
The Bush Tavern I recall, his accent is still as strong and the bunting remains.
The Bush Tavern, that's the one. The lads, including Jason, were actually totally sound with us, that night and later on too, despite our not being in any way brooootal :laugh: Had a couple of great nights with the other, now sadly deceased Jason, their original vocalist, and a load of great chats about gear and metal with Connor over the years back in the day.
Quote from: ochoill on August 10, 2022, 09:21:17 AMQuote from: Eoin McLove on August 10, 2022, 08:49:15 AMA bit of a "totes random" memory here, but I remember as a young lad, very early 90s it would have been I think, and going swimming in Stewart's in Palmerston and in the changing room seeing a canvas school bag from, presumably, an older kid. It was covered in metal logos but the one that sticks out in my memory was the Pestilence logo. Over the decades I've sometimes wondered who it might have belonged to and if it might have been one of the Morphosis dudes who lived close by in Lucan...
Slightly similar but older, I was around 15 and helping our old youth club clear out a room they were renting in the town, over a funeral home (which has another few related odd memories as a kid). There was a part we never used and I was asked to haul some furniture out to a skip. Among them all was an old chair, beige canvas and steel frame. The back of it was covered in faded 80s metal names - in particular I remember Venom, Accept, Sodom, and Bathory on it. I knew these bands by name but had only ever listened to Venom.
I asked the YC staff about it, they had no idea who drew on it, "it's been here like that since we had the rooms, so it must have been done beforehand". They were in this building since the mid 90s so it was done long enough before then for it to be abandoned to them as a spare. Something compelled me to take it home, even though I knew fuck all of the bands on it, the thought of this odd little relic from a metalhead a decade or so previous struck me, it would be like someone finding my old green canvas backpacks.
So it sat in the room, with meself and the brothers laughing at it every now and again, wondering who in the town tagged the chair with all this 80s metal, but it was still up at home last time I was there, with the names basically faded off it now.
Yeah it went nowhere but it's a metal memory.
I bought a Sodom double live cd off the back of that chair!
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 02:26:32 PMThe Bush Tavern, that's the one. The lads, including Jason, were actually totally sound with us, that night and later on too, despite our not being in any way brooootal :laugh: Had a couple of great nights with the other, now sadly deceased Jason, their original vocalist, and a load of great chats about gear and metal with Connor over the years back in the day.
All sound lads, and yeah I remember the singer Jason well, although I was outta the country at the time of his passing. I'm sure Connor has a few metal memories from back then.
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 01:56:44 PM... Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
:laugh: Amazing. Have done a handful of gigs gone sideways over the years, they make for the best tales and craic after the fact at least.
Quote from: astfgyl on August 10, 2022, 02:29:58 PMI bought a Sodom double live cd off the back of that chair!
Jesus Christ I actually forgot about that, what a buried memory. I don't remember a note off the CD, that's not promising :laugh:
Did you fix your phone yet
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 01:56:44 PMOut of all the gigs we played in Ireland, one does actually stand out when reading Andy's story about the Donegal accent; the first time we (pre Era V., when we were still Gambit) played up north, in Ballymoney to be precise, home at the time to Putrefy and, unbeknownst to us before arriving, a prominent unionist stronghold.
It was our first time playing outside of Dublin/Wicklow and we hiked up, train to Belfast, then another to Ballymoney itself. Our drummer at the time fancied himself a proper rock 'n roller, although only in the chemical sense, and I knew he had supplies on him. No sooner does the train pull out of Dublin then he's out of his seat and heading for the jacks to get a line or two into him. "Here man," I says to him, it being around 11 in the morning, "Pace yourself, yeah?" The perfect answer he gave off the cuff had the rest of us in stitches; "I am pacing myself. Starting now." :laugh:
When we eventually made it to Ballymoney, we walk out the train station and there's Union Jack bunting absolutely fucking everywhere, zig-zagging all along the main street all the way up. Seriously unnerving and unwelcoming stuff; didn't know where we were and didn't want to open our southern mouths to ask anyone. Then the comprehension difficulties began; I rang Jason (Putrefy's drummer, whose old MI handle I can't remember right now... edit: rapistofrednecks??) to ask for directions. He answers, seems to understand what I ask him, but I can't make out a single word from the stream of nordy gurning. "Can you send me a text message?"
Grand, get to the venue. Drummer disappears immediately to the jacks. Now we're sitting with a pint outside of the venue, glad to be "safe" surrounded by metallers rather than orangemen, and Jason starts talking again. Seriously, the lad has the strongest accent I've ever heard in Ireland outside of the deepest depths of the Kerry gaeltacht. I'm getting about two words per sentence, but that's enough to gather that what he's saying is, "I haven't listened to yer music, but I just hope yer brootal. We've loadsa bands come up say they're gonna be brootal but then they're not brootal at all." We were not, nor had ever said we were, "brootal". At the time, Gambit still even had some remnants of nu-metal influence from two of the founding members, now since ejected. Anyway, we're thinking, "Fuck, we are going to bomb." Sinister Demise were the other band on the line-up, so, yeah, in terms of being "brootal", we were going to stick out like a clean thumb on a hand of bludgeoned fingers. Needless to say, next time I spotted the drummer heading off, I tagged along, despite the danger of being murdered by any locals who might have walked in to find two southern lads cramped into a cubicle together. Then we went out and performed a profusely sweaty, thoroughly unbroootal set and got the fuck out of there.
Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 01:56:44 PMOut of all the gigs we played in Ireland, one does actually stand out when reading Andy's story about the Donegal accent; the first time we (pre Era V., when we were still Gambit) played up north, in Ballymoney to be precise, home at the time to Putrefy and, unbeknownst to us before arriving, a prominent unionist stronghold.
It was our first time playing outside of Dublin/Wicklow and we hiked up, train to Belfast, then another to Ballymoney itself. Our drummer at the time fancied himself a proper rock 'n roller, although only in the chemical sense, and I knew he had supplies on him. No sooner does the train pull out of Dublin then he's out of his seat and heading for the jacks to get a line or two into him. "Here man," I says to him, it being around 11 in the morning, "Pace yourself, yeah?" The perfect answer he gave off the cuff had the rest of us in stitches; "I am pacing myself. Starting now." :laugh:
When we eventually made it to Ballymoney, we walk out the train station and there's Union Jack bunting absolutely fucking everywhere, zig-zagging all along the main street all the way up. Seriously unnerving and unwelcoming stuff; didn't know where we were and didn't want to open our southern mouths to ask anyone. Then the comprehension difficulties began; I rang Jason (Putrefy's drummer, whose old MI handle I can't remember right now... edit: rapistofrednecks??) to ask for directions. He answers, seems to understand what I ask him, but I can't make out a single word from the stream of nordy gurning. "Can you send me a text message?"
Grand, get to the venue. Drummer disappears immediately to the jacks. Now we're sitting with a pint outside of the venue, glad to be "safe" surrounded by metallers rather than orangemen, and Jason starts talking again. Seriously, the lad has the strongest accent I've ever heard in Ireland outside of the deepest depths of the Kerry gaeltacht. I'm getting about two words per sentence, but that's enough to gather that what he's saying is, "I haven't listened to yer music, but I just hope yer brootal. We've loadsa bands come up say they're gonna be brootal but then they're not brootal at all." We were not, nor had ever said we were, "brootal". At the time, Gambit still even had some remnants of nu-metal influence from two of the founding members, now since ejected. Anyway, we're thinking, "Fuck, we are going to bomb." Sinister Demise were the other band on the line-up, so, yeah, in terms of being "brootal", we were going to stick out like a clean thumb on a hand of bludgeoned fingers. Needless to say, next time I spotted the drummer heading off, I tagged along, despite the danger of being murdered by any locals who might have walked in to find two southern lads cramped into a cubicle together. Then we went out and performed a profusely sweaty, thoroughly unbroootal set and got the fuck out of there.
Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
:laugh: savage.
Quote from: Pentagrimes on August 07, 2022, 02:41:52 PMThe Chaos Descends bunk bed incident will stay with me as long as I live
Ah come on, you can't just mention a story!
Also regarding putting on gigs in your teens, when we were 14/15 a pub in Draperstown used to let us put on gigs on Friday nights. There would be 40 or 50 of our mates drinking and smoking hash in the bar! Madness to think about, the bar didn't give a fuck as long as no one started a row.
One memory that sums up how ridiculous this whole scene is. At Day of Darkness 2006 I woke up around 5am and couldn't get back to sleep so thought I would go for a walk. Went out of the camp site and in the car park were two lads, blasting black metal from the car stereo, windows down and doors open, windmilling and playing air guitar, not a care in the world! ::)
The quick version is Andy tagged along to the festival the year Vircolac played, and was sharing a bunk bed in our accomodation. He opted for the top bunk, which proved to be a bad choice as the next morning owing to an knee injury he'd temporarily forgotten about while shitfaced, it took the bones of 20 minutes for him to get down from said bunk. You had to be there.
Also I got woken up in the middle of the night by a flying shoe - I was in the bunk beneath- that Darragh was aiming at Andy because his snoring was apparently unreal. that whole weekend was hilarious in retrospect, (as was pretty much any weekend away with the Wolfpack with the exception of our tript to Lodz)... Mr and Mrs Purcell's shot belts and breakdancing to Autopsy also being two particular highlights.
Quote from: Bürggermeister on August 07, 2022, 06:28:24 PMDeath was quite reasonable compared to the two Ozzy gigs. They were insanely packed. It was gas afterwards when people looked like they were gently smouldering coming out of McGonagles with the amount of steam billowing off them into the night.
A memory of that Death gig, though not quite so fond, was after the gig. There was a bit of violence outside, and I had no money for the bus so was walking home, and headed onto Dawson Street to start making my way south.
As I neared the end of the street, a lad pegged it by me, shortly afterwards followed by the same group of cunts who were fighting outside the venue. They headed towards the top of Grafton Street after yer man, so I cut across to the Green. I was going towards Harcourt Street anyway. Just as I got across the road, I saw the last one of the group had turned around and started walking my direction.
Bollocks.
He started the "Were you lookin' at me?" shite. It sounds stupid, but I had gotten a stick from Reinert at the end of the gig and my first thought was "How do I get out of this with this stick?" which was hidden up the sleeve of my leather jacket.
I noticed more of the pack had stopped chasing yer man and were now coming over too. I was 6'3" when I was 16 and usually avoided shit like this as a result. I was fucked now, though.
I was making it very clear to the first guy that I wasn't looking for trouble, was just walking home because I had no money even for the bus.
"Yeah, you were, you were looking at me!"
I was now circled, all the cunts had cone over. Again, I just repeated that I was walking home and wasn't looking for trouble. They were just waiting for me to make a move. They just wanted a reason to kick my fucking head in.
The first guy now changed course. "Gimme your jacket!"
The stick!!!
I continued to repeat the same line, not looking for trouble, just walking home.
First guy put his hand in his trackie top pocket. "Gimme your jacket or I'll knife ye!"
Ah fuck.
"I'm not looking for trouble, man, I'm just walking home."
At this point, one of the circle, probably seeing there was no sport in this hunt, intervened and said to them "Ahh, he's alright! I know him!"
He turned to me and said "You're alright, John, go on." and nodded at me to move on. I'd never been called John before, but I was happy to be John right then.
I mumbled thanks to yer man and walked to the memorial gate of the Green and, once out of sight, ran in a manner I was never capable of, before or since, to the far end of Harcourt Street until I could barely breathe. I still kept walking, though, and didn't stop for another 6 miles or so until I got home.
I still have that fucking stick, all the same.
Xentrix at McGonagles, bought a shirt and walked outside, looking round for my mate (supposed to meet him, as we were getting a bus back to Dundalk.) Then a few guys surrounded me, the leader, some floppy haired cunt in a multicoloured Harry Enfield Scousers tracksuit top goes. "Give us your shirt."
I say. "Eh?"
"Give us your shirt. Now."
"What?
"Give us your fucking shirt."
"No. "
Give us your fucking shirt. I'll not ask ya again. I've a fucking knife."
And looking back, what was probably the dumbest thing to say in reply: "Let's see it."
Guy's jaw actually dropped. Proceeded to try and knee me, then he and his mates fucked off.
Saw a cop van coming down the street a couple of minutes later, told them what had happened, and they were decent enough to give me a lift to Busaras, where I made the bus by about a minute.
Over the next few weeks in the pub, had to endure various people pointing large knives in my direction going "That's not a knife, that's a knife!".
A few months later, I was in college in Letterkenny, and one of my classmates had a friend who lived in Letterkenny, introduced us, he looks at me and says, "You were at Xentrix. In a Nocturnus shirt." So we got chatting about the gig, and Mr Colourful Tracksuit top came up. It turned out he did actually have a knife, and he learned from his dealings with me, because he already had it visible when he robbed the guy from Letterkenny later that evening.
Quote from: Pentagrimes on August 11, 2022, 01:52:54 PMThe quick version is Andy tagged along to the festival the year Vircolac played, and was sharing a bunk bed in our accomodation. He opted for the top bunk, which proved to be a bad choice as the next morning owing to an knee injury he'd temporarily forgotten about while shitfaced, it took the bones of 20 minutes for him to get down from said bunk. You had to be there.
Also I got woken up in the middle of the night by a flying shoe - I was in the bunk beneath- that Darragh was aiming at Andy because his snoring was apparently unreal. that whole weekend was hilarious in retrospect, (as was pretty much any weekend away with the Wolfpack with the exception of our tript to Lodz)... Mr and Mrs Purcell's shot belts and breakdancing to Autopsy also being two particular highlights.
I think it was more a case of that being the only available bed left. I could barely even get up on the fucking thing in the first place. I also had no money as I had been off work for several weeks with the torn cruciate so it was a bit of a stressful weekend until heading on the Malthusian/ Negative Plane tour directly afterwards where my food, accommodation and booze was all paid for :laugh:
It was a stressful weekend for me too alright, given I gave myself alcohol poisioning :laugh:
that was a kind of flat-feeling gig if I recall
Quote from: ochoill on August 06, 2022, 01:45:58 PMAh jesus loads, even if some of them might be a bit detached. One I think of a lot is that Enslaved / Zyklon / 1349 gig in the Village years back, maybe 07 or 08 again. Great craic with good people but two things are etched into my mind forever - the lad from 1349 setting his face on fire during their intro by mistake, and lads getting sucked into the zyklon moshpit at the speed of the strobe light from the edge of the crowd. And also the bass cutting during the kick in of "Fusion of Sense and Earth" in Enslaved's set but we'll forgive that. A fun and deadly gig that I can't forget.
The first Siege I attended too - Easter 2010, when they were still in Baker's place. Having been to a good load of the gigs in the Precinct (ahh Metal After Mass) I had assumed this would be similar but all day, few local heads and pints, but I was met with cracking weather and hundereds of lads on a monumental rip across the three bars. It was serious festival atmosphere, too hammered to deal with living before the sun even went down but somehow stayed going. It is also sealed to my memories.
Quote from: Black Shepherd Carnage on August 10, 2022, 01:56:44 PMOut of all the gigs we played in Ireland, one does actually stand out when reading Andy's story about the Donegal accent; the first time we (pre Era V., when we were still Gambit) played up north, in Ballymoney to be precise, home at the time to Putrefy and, unbeknownst to us before arriving, a prominent unionist stronghold.
It was our first time playing outside of Dublin/Wicklow and we hiked up, train to Belfast, then another to Ballymoney itself. Our drummer at the time fancied himself a proper rock 'n roller, although only in the chemical sense, and I knew he had supplies on him. No sooner does the train pull out of Dublin then he's out of his seat and heading for the jacks to get a line or two into him. "Here man," I says to him, it being around 11 in the morning, "Pace yourself, yeah?" The perfect answer he gave off the cuff had the rest of us in stitches; "I am pacing myself. Starting now." :laugh:
When we eventually made it to Ballymoney, we walk out the train station and there's Union Jack bunting absolutely fucking everywhere, zig-zagging all along the main street all the way up. Seriously unnerving and unwelcoming stuff; didn't know where we were and didn't want to open our southern mouths to ask anyone. Then the comprehension difficulties began; I rang Jason (Putrefy's drummer, whose old MI handle I can't remember right now... edit: rapistofrednecks??) to ask for directions. He answers, seems to understand what I ask him, but I can't make out a single word from the stream of nordy gurning. "Can you send me a text message?"
Grand, get to the venue. Drummer disappears immediately to the jacks. Now we're sitting with a pint outside of the venue, glad to be "safe" surrounded by metallers rather than orangemen, and Jason starts talking again. Seriously, the lad has the strongest accent I've ever heard in Ireland outside of the deepest depths of the Kerry gaeltacht. I'm getting about two words per sentence, but that's enough to gather that what he's saying is, "I haven't listened to yer music, but I just hope yer brootal. We've loadsa bands come up say they're gonna be brootal but then they're not brootal at all." We were not, nor had ever said we were, "brootal". At the time, Gambit still even had some remnants of nu-metal influence from two of the founding members, now since ejected. Anyway, we're thinking, "Fuck, we are going to bomb." Sinister Demise were the other band on the line-up, so, yeah, in terms of being "brootal", we were going to stick out like a clean thumb on a hand of bludgeoned fingers. Needless to say, next time I spotted the drummer heading off, I tagged along, despite the danger of being murdered by any locals who might have walked in to find two southern lads cramped into a cubicle together. Then we went out and performed a profusely sweaty, thoroughly unbroootal set and got the fuck out of there.
Never went back to Ballymoney. If it's all about the memories you form along the way, then that one was sufficiently burned in there not to need repeating.
I remember us (was 2nd guitarist in Putrefy them days) thinking that some of the Gambit fellas were a bit extra 'wired', especially the drummer lol! Wouldnt have been much fun doin lines in The Bush toilets!
We played in Ballymoney once too, the Bush Tavern. Stayed in the bass player from Putrefy's gaff and I remember the next morning the UDA flags in the gardens in the estate. Wrecked on speed from the night before and a manic search for car keys and Steve from
Abaddon Incarnate being so steamed that he didn't give a shit are my abiding memories.
I wasn't called a fenian or anything like that at the house party though so I think it wasn't as big a deal as we thought in retrospect.
Two great concerts from memory:
Seeing Bolt Thrower for the first time in 2010 at the Button Factory (Rotting Christ opened but I was at the bar), stagediving during the gig a few times and meeting Karl Willetts afterwards. Perfect.
Seeing Suffocation play Fibbers, 2008?. Insane gig, Mike Smith turns up at the bar at some point in the afternoon and someone near the bar gives me their phone and asks me to take a photo with him.
That Suffocation gig was fuckin savage. Mental to see them in Fibbers.
Ah the old Bush Tavern in Ballymoney. Played there one night with an old band Shermanm4 and were staying in the promoters house a few miles away. Promoter fainted at the gig and was brought to hospital. Gig ended, we're all pissed and asked the barman where the taxis were. He said not a taxi to be had and we cant wait around outside as we'd get set on. So our singer drove us to the promoters house about 10 miles away after 8 pints in him. Christ if we were stopped. Got to the promoters gaff and he wasn't back yet so their neighbours (a 60 year old couple) brought us in for drinks. All a ruse as the old wan was trying to get off with all of us. It's a strange place Ballymoney.
:laugh: :laugh:
Quote from: leatherface on October 07, 2022, 09:31:55 PMTwo great concerts from memory:
Seeing Bolt Thrower for the first time in 2010 at the Button Factory (Rotting Christ opened but I was at the bar), stagediving during the gig a few times and meeting Karl Willetts afterwards. Perfect.
Seeing Suffocation play Fibbers, 2008?. Insane gig, Mike Smith turns up at the bar at some point in the afternoon and someone near the bar gives me their phone and asks me to take a photo with him.
And that was first gig they played after all the issues or whatever went on with them never coming over here for years. I think the previous time they played before that was November 04 with Krisiun in the Village.
They played Cork with God Dethroned in 2006,the gig was plagued by bad sound is my memory.Gorefest were originally ment to the the support.Was at the gig in the Button factort in 2010 too,real old school vibe to that one!,just loads of stage diving!