Every Time I Die, Trap Them, and Howl
November 5 at The Canal Club
Regardless of how much I hate all the violent behavior that goes on at metalcore shows, I can't seem to make myself stay away from them. See, I love a lot of metalcore bands. As a genre, it's like a commercial version of hardcore, or metal without all the cartoonish signifiers that make it seem uncool. It's tailor-made to generate sales at Hot Topic, and there's no getting around that. But let's face it--a genre made up of the most easily understood musical elements of metal and hardcore is going to produce some catchy bands. And when one of those bands not only writes great songs but seems to be driven by intelligence and an impressive amount of creativity, there's no way I'm going to be able to resist. Every Time I Die was playing in Richmond--I had to go. But considering what was in store for me, maybe I should have thought twice.
I arrived at the show late enough to barely miss openers No Signal, which is a shame both because I used to do a zine with the same title and therefore was curious about their sound, and also because friends of mine who made it to the show in time to catch them informed me that everyone in the band was between 12 and 14 years old. Based on secondhand reports, I couldn't really determine whether they were legitimately good, or just good for their age, but either way, it's cool to hear about some young kids getting out there and rocking. Hopefully I'll see them soon.
The first band I saw perform was New England's Howl, who have a slow, steady sound that reminded me somewhat of High On Fire. Their riffing was chunky and heavy, but after a while, the fact that they kep the tempo consistently slow started to wear on me a bit. I like a lot of superslow doom metal, but the stuff that's fast enough not to sound like a sluggish crawl, the stuff that just sounds like a slow march, gets boring quickly. I found myself zoning out after Howl had played a few songs, the music washing over me and disappearing from my memory as soon as I heard it. Part of the problem may have been the weird sound mix they were getting. The singer's guitar sounded strangely muffled, contrasting with their lead guitarist's much clearer tone. It made the parts he was playing disappear into the muddy mix, which was further muffled due to the way the stage was set up. All of the bands had set up their equipment onstage at once, which forced the drummer to play behind three layers of amp stacks. It was as if the drums had been set up in the next room, with only a doorway's worth of space allowing the sound to get out. Some of the drums in his kit were coming through the PA, but others weren't, so some parts of his kit sounded louder than others. The end product was less than ideal, so that might have contributed to my relative disinterest in Howl's performance.
Trap Them was next, and the singer immediately came across as a loose cannon. Over the sound of humming amps, he climbed onto the rail separating band from audience, announced, "Hi, we're Trap Them," and plunged headfirst into the crowd. The actual music didn't start until at least ten seconds later. Once he returned to the stage after a minute or so, he continued with the intense antics, often standing on top of the monitors and flipping them over onto their backs. He'd try to brace them against the railing at the front of the stage, but his jumping and stomping on them kept having the same result. He also swung the microphone around by its cord a good bit, and within the first few songs managed to smack it against the floor at least once. The rest of the band stayed relatively composed compared to the singer, content to merely play their songs. However, the music raised the intensity level all by itself. Trap Them have the sort of downtuned, note-bending, distorted guitar sound that easily conjures up memories of His Hero Is Gone, as well as all of the other dark, angry hardcore bands that have followed in their footsteps. By contrast, Trap Them's songwriting style sticks much closer to the heavy, straightforward hardcore of bands like Hope Consipracy and Pulling Teeth. They effectively straddle the line between these two genres, giving them an appeal to multiple scenes. Indeed, it seemed from the crowd response that Trap Them was the main draw for a significant contingent of fans. Trap Them's performance was certainly the highlight of the night for me--intense, driving music played well and with an energetic, engaging stage performance. It made what came afterward seem like even more of a letdown.
As I mentioned earlier, I am not the sort of person who is cut out to enjoy the typical metalcore show. The violent mosh pits, the hail of flying bodies, the way musicians occasionally cross the fine line between energetic live performance and outright attacks on their audience... it all gives me a big fucking headache, and not just because stagedivers are stepping on my head every 30 seconds. The downstairs space where bands usually play at the Canal Club makes it even harder for someone like me to find a way to enjoy these sorts of shows, since you can either stand in the front, watch the band, and deal with the carnage, or stand in the back and get a view of flailing stagedivers and the backs of people's heads all night. I don't really understand why the upstairs space at the Canal Club, with its higher ceilings that enable fans to avoid the visibility problem of the downstairs room, is so rarely used. I've seen some pretty well-known acts at the Canal Club, and all of them have played downstairs. Maybe it's got something to do with handicapped access? Regardless, it can be kind of a bummer.
Every Time I Die's live sound is also kind of a bummer. On record, their mix of metalcore brutality and fuck-you rock n' roll swagger works perfectly, and while the riffs tend to fit together in rather complex ways, it doesn't seem like they should dissolve into a wall of undifferentiated noise live. And yet, more often than not, that's what happens. It's especially problematic when the band is going fast; when the big breakdowns hit, you can usually follow them, but when they're playing at full speed it can be hard to distinguish what song you're even hearing. Several times during their set, I thought, "Oh wait, I know this one!" as a song reached its halfway point and hit the first big singalong part. I'm hesitant to blame the sound problems on The Canal Club, too, since I saw Every Time I Die several years ago at Alleykatz and had the same problem making out the fast parts then. I feel like they could have a better, clearer live sound if they wanted to, but their live performance seems more based around rocking out and going crazy than actually playing the songs well. It seemed like the crowd they attracted were also more interested in spectacle than performance, and they saw their role in the insanity to be behaving as recklessly and violently as possible. I saw kids do stagedives that I'd consider suicidal--getting enough air to launch 20 feet beyond the edge of the stage, out to where people aren't clustered that tightly together and might just drop you. At times, especially on the final song of the evening, half a dozen or more kids would all stagedive at once. At another point, two kids coming from opposite sides of the stage collided in midair about 5 feet to my left. Both of them went straight down. I'd really hate to have been standing under that collision. I've seen the consequences of this kind of thing way too many times--ambulances carting away showgoers, teeth and blood sprayed across the floor of a club. It didn't get that bad at the Canal Club--everyone seemed to be walking on their own at the end of the show--but it wasn't for lack of trying.
I know I'm talking more about stagediving than I am about Every Time I Die's actual performance, but I'd be kidding myself if I pretended that the main impression I took away from the show was the music. The main impression I got was of having to dodge stagedivers, of wincing as kids did crazy shit, of trying to rock out but getting kicked in the head the second I tried to focus my attention on the music. I'd say it only bothers me because I'm getting old, but really, I hated that kind of show environment when I was 18. If Every Time I Die had been able to back up their antics, and the ridiculous behavior of their fans, with a top-level performance and clearly audible sound, it might have offset the endurance-test aspects of the show. As it was, though, I felt like next time I'd be better off staying home and listening to the records.
Words by Andrew Necci
Photos by Nathan Congleton/Hardstyle Photography