Article and Photos by: Steven Principato

Brooklyn, NYC – Effortlessly selling out one of Brooklyn’s largest and most significant venues, The music Hall of Williamsburg, a triple threat line-up of stoner-sludge contemporaries comprised of Whores, Torche, and the highly revered Red Fang easily justified the crowd. Drawing out the genre’s most ardent disciples, which comprised mainly of beard-faced, PBR swigging denizens from the exorbitantly priced and compacted dwellings throughout the notorious neighborhood, there were zero doubts in my mind regarding the intensity of tonight’s show.    

Traveling north from the humid hellscape of Atlanta, Ga was the affectionately named Whores, who delightfully began the night with their own anarchistic interpretation of an already lawless sub-genre. In an unapologetic reverence and respect to the grand for-bearers of much of the sounds we’ll hear tonight, that being the Melvins, and even with Whores Vocalist/Guitarist Christian Lembach nearly resembling Melvins front-man Buzz Osborne (in perhaps only my observation?), it was safely anticipated that tonight was heading for a sludgy bog of brutal euphoria (that actually being a good thing). Never coming up for air or to acknowledge those before them once in their roughly hour long set, nor did they deny the audience a mere moment of that satisfying, eight foot thick concrete tone. Whores proved themselves as a band with many more capabilities than simply channeling the Melvins – which isn’t that easy to begin with.

Taking on the the middle slot was Torche, coming from sunny Miami, armed only with their own unique method of massive sonic annihilation in addition to their unusually uplifting chord progressions, rhythms and quasi-melodic vocals that might even be mistaken for a friendlier musical genre at times. For a veteran act frequently labeled as “sludge” in regards to their genuine sound that meets such criteria as slow drawn out riffs, de-tuned instruments, and a coarse fuzz-tone as most would expect, Torche boldly oversteps the boundaries into “catchy atmospheric” territory in much of the set list delivered tonight. Contrasting the band’s previously described “Sludge-cred” can be partially credited to Guitarist/Vocalist Steve Brooks’ harmonic distancing from the remaining rhythm section by his uniquely accenting guitar work which safely floats above the murky churning turbulent sludge-storm below, resulting in a soundscape that is both thicker than the notorious brutal Miami humidity and more vibrant than the pastel colored art-deco facades of south beach. This ain’t yer New Orleans Sludge, so check out Torche’s latest record Restarter to hear it for yourself.

Headlining the show to the delight of a thousand or so amped-up facial hair and craft everything enthusiasts, Red Fang, arguably one of the stoner rock genre’s hottest acts took to the stage under a storm of merciless acclamation. Stereotypically fitting that “Portlandia” image of their native city, Red Fang – despite what we learned from a tongue and cheek parody on what actually seems like a wonderful place to live (especially if you are from New Jersey), made it unmistakably clear why they are the stoner band selling tons of copies of that new record with the cool golden artwork. Placing priorities on actual music and performance of their own very exquisitely crafted music rather than expensive vintage “show” gear that appears so agonizingly prevalent within this genre, Red Fang keeps it plain and simple -Beat-up guitars and all. As a band with such  a relaxed stage presence and a massively infectious stoner-approved fuzzed-out, bottom heavy tone, Red Fang began the set with the exceedingly cathartic “Wires”, (watch  video and see why) generating a rather predictable effect on the unrestricted sea of courteous aggression below – which is a description that I’m familiar only within Brooklyn venues! Unregulated mass stage diving soon followed; a practice that I rarely witness at even the most brutal of metal shows as a result of a heavy security presence at most venues. As the audience stood before Red Fang, beholden to their earthshaking grooves and somewhat dance inducing beats, The feeling stood mutual as the band expressed their gratitude towards the intensifying energy of the storm below, now frequently launching fans at the stage, only to the band’s amusement rather than apprehension. Never at one point did Red Fang cut back the energy to breathe, instead continuing the set, heavy with material from their latest release, Only Ghost – you know, that record with the cool golden artwork. With front-man and bassist, Aaron Beam taking on the burden of words pertaining to matters that I can relate and assisting in powering the massive bottom end of the Red Fang sound machine along with guitarist Bryan Giles,  while lead guitarist David Sullivan carried on the traditions of a true guitar slinger, rocking out in Hendrix-esque showmanship. Not daring to forget the true backbone of Red Fang’s heaviness, Master Skinsman John Sherman, that being the guy who is responsible for that massive beat that appears to encourage perfectly normal concertgoers into jumping off the stage upon a rapidly parting crowd below.

Wrapping up the show with all who attended seemingly intact despite the reckless stage divers, the small army of temporarily satisfied denizens mentioned earlier filed out onto the cold December streets, most of them yet to come down from the adrenaline high that comes as a side effect to the exposure to such amazing bands performing under one roof. Finding a positive experience in a tour featuring three stoner/sludge bands that may very well be considered as major proponents in driving the apparently growing resurgence in this particular genre, equals good news for the many upcoming bands, and even better news to those legendary bands already well established.