[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]December 13th, 2015

MotorCo – Durham, North Carolina[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]I don’t like going to Durham for shows. (Editor’s Note: I’m a Raleigh gurl, through and through.) But if I am to leave the City of Oaks, Motorco ain’t a bad place to visit. Especially for a lineup as robust as this one. I can’t remember the last time I saw a bill with 4 bands I wanted to see. I generally have to suffer through a handful of openers before I hear anything that I won’t make fun of later on the internet. Not tonight. This bill came out the gates swinging and didn’t let up.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Bedowyn

Kicking off the night was a great set by Raleigh’s Bedowyn…at least, that is what wife of Bedowyn’s drummer, Marc, told me as I was late to the show and missed their set. (Editor’s Note: “The Pile” at Geer Street Garden that forced me to miss the set made a late night reprise when it came out the in-door, so I feel like I paid my penance and them some.) I was bummed because I know for a fact that Bedowyn rules. The last time I saw them (Hopscotch 2014 @ Kennedy Theater), they were so loud that they rattled my eyeballs.

“Sorry, Marc” / 5 stars = I’ll take your wife’s word for it: Great[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Colossus

Believe you me, I was tempted to catch Colossus the night before in Raleigh @ King’s. I also really wanted to catch Canada’s finest, Fuck the Facts lay waste to Slim’s but I was a bit under the weather so I decided to rest up for Saturday. Colossus was warming up as we arrived. With a bill of 4 bands, I expected a short set from Colossus. It turned out to be a mere 6 songs but Colossus managed to play my two favorites off of “Colossus…and the Sepulcher of the Mirror Warlocks” and give us a taste of the epic new track, “Sea of Stars” before closing with sing-along-anthem, “Kill More Better.”[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]Colossus Setlist
4/5 stars = Great
No one has more fun shredding than Colossus. I still don’t know why Iron Maiden hasn’t yet swooped them up in Ed Force One to have Colossus open for them across the world at large. I’ll keep my fingers crossed, fellas.[/vc_column_text][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”385″ img_size=”medium” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_shadow” onclick=”img_link_large” img_link_target=”_blank” css_animation=”appear”][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”384″ img_size=”medium” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_shadow” onclick=”img_link_large” img_link_target=”_blank” css_animation=”appear”][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Crowbar

Crowbar are like Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. (Editor’s Note: Bear with me. We’re going for a ride.) When I first started toying around with a guitar, I came across the tablature for “Free Fallin’.” I learned the song in about 7 minutes. I could not believe how simple it was. Then a lightbulb went on in my head: Simplicity is a major factor in writing a classic song that will stand the test of time. One doesn’t need to show how easily they can keep up with 17/16 time signatures if they know how to write a hit. That is how I feel about Crowbar. Each riff is deliberately crafted with care, packing the maximum amount of punch in the smallest possible package. The result are riffs that sound as fresh and sludgy today as they did back in ’93. Crowbar showed me that they can still pack a ridiculous sonic punch (Editor’s Note: Dear god, they were loud.) and keep me enthralled throughout the entire set, bobbing my head to the groove.

4/5 stars = Great
I’ll be the first to admit that I had forgotten about Crowbar. Kirk Windstein and co. reminded me with extreme prejudice on Saturday night that there is a damn good reason that they remain the kings of bayou sludge.[/vc_column_text][vc_single_image image=”387″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_shadow” onclick=”img_link_large” img_link_target=”_blank” css_animation=”appear”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]High on Fire

By night, Matt Pike rocks the fuck out. By day, he looks like he mutilates bodies in Carcosa. High on Fire remind me of the kind of guys that you meet when you are desperate for weed so you take a long drive to a sketchy trailer park on the outskirts of town at the word of your homey’s girlfriend’s sister’s cousin who says these dudes have the dankest nugs. You drive up and see some good ol’ boys installing lift kits on their Chevys and cleaning their assault rifles. Deer carcasses are hanging upside down, allowing the blood to drain into rusty washtubs where loose pit bulls with spiked collars are circling ever closer, eyeing them with drool forming at the corners of their mouths. Some toothless creepers, straight out of Deliverance, mean mug you as you slowly pull around back, worried if you will ever make it back to civilization. You text your mom that you love her, but it bounces back because there is no signal. No escape.

Toothless Hillbilly #1: “What you want, city boy?” *spits chaw on your tire*
You: “Umm…Crystal Lynn sent me?” *flop sweat clearly visible on your brow*

A shirtless, filthy, likely illiterate child points toward the trailer to your right. The vacant look in his eye reminds you of that true crime show about serial killers you saw last week on cable. You pull up to the front, slowly get out of the car and make the sign of the cross while whispering a Hail Mary to a god whom you are certain has turned his back on you. You trip over a bucket of headless Barbie dolls, spilling them into the mud as you slowly make your way to the trailer door. The missing Barbie heads are hanging off an encroaching tree branch like the world’s worst wind chimes or the mobile atop the crib of a future cannibal. As every regret in your pathetic, wasted life passes across your mind’s eye, you reach out and knock softly on the door as you hold your breath.

Immediately, it swings open. A shotgun is leveled directly at your face. “Who the fuck are you?!” screams a fully naked madman. “Wh-wh-where da weed at?” you stammer as warm urine trickles down your leg. “Oh. Matt’s in the back,” says the former madman who lowers his gun and begins to sound like a normal person to your fear-riddled ears. You step inside and see a (naturally) shirtless Matt Pike, noodling on his unplugged Les Paul. “Sup, brother. Take a hit of this…” He motions his head toward a 2-foot wizard bong on the table. You pick it up, flick your lighter, take the biggest bong-rip that you can stand, and exhale a giant, skunky cloud that permeates the entire area. You look over at Matt’s sweaty dad bod and meet his gaze. As he nods his approval, you know that everything is going to be alright. Except for your pants. Those are ruined.

High on Fire got the crowd moshing early as Pike nearly filled a milk jug with his sweat. He works hard for the money, so you better treat him right. The full house at Motorco did just that.

4/5 stars = Great
For a guy who looks like he can barely hold a beer can, Matt Pike sure can shred.[/vc_column_text][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”381″ img_size=”large” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_shadow” onclick=”img_link_large” img_link_target=”_blank” css_animation=”appear”][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_single_image image=”382″ img_size=”large” alignment=”center” style=”vc_box_shadow” onclick=”img_link_large” img_link_target=”_blank” css_animation=”appear”][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]-Negadave[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row]