April Fools Day ended with a loud bang with horror-punk icon Doyle and band ripping and shredding the Harrison, Ohio Blue Note stage with screaming horror-filled noise. Doyle Woflgang von Frankenstein’s signature six-string Annihilator seared through speakers, with notes roaring, growling and grinding, cranked, bended and released like tortured angry souls escaping the fret board.
Five bands made up the evening’s show with area support provided by Pagan Holiday and Sepia Heyday playing in between touring bands on the second stage. The tour which started March 4th ended April 10th hitting almost 30 cities and venues including a two-night stint at the legendary Whiskey A Go-Go.
The Abominating the World: As We Die World Tour included Salem’s Childe and pale-faced ghoulish stage generals Wednesday 13. Doyle and the Gotham-colored, dark winged, aptly shaped beast were the stars of the main event. As mostly masked singer Alex “Wolfman” Story brought loud, chaotic life to a set of love songs with star-chested bassist Brandon Strate and drummer Wade Murff rounding off the mayhem.
Indiana bred Salems Childe was vocalist Johnny Oravsky, guitarists Rob Salem and Aaron Crick, bassist James Gates and drummer Scott Earley. They’ve definitely paid dues, putting their time in the biz playing everything from basements to stadiums releasing debut The Sin That Saves You in 2020 via Pavement Entertain followed by a cover of Sponge’s “Plowed.” Abominating the world with Doyle gave the five-piece massive modern-day exposure to post-pandemic coast to coast fresh faces. Their sound and performance was crafted under the audio tut ledge of Machine Head, Tool and Lamb of God among others sharing live space with Godsmack and In Flames.
They began the “Warpath” for their tribe. “Sacred Sun” brought out the lyrical white masks of the ceremonial bohemian traveler while Sponge got some love on “Plowed” in a world of human wreckage.
“The Sin that Saves You” brought out the mental torture of PTSD, personal mental reenactments and memories of war.
Political purges surfaced in protests during “The Dream is Dead,” while “Prometheus” screamed major respect and props to all first responders, fire fighters and medical staff.
“Trinity” and “Paradise Lost” took turns cracking and creaking necks as Oravsky spent half the show at the barricade yelling and screaming in faces, keeping the energy up.
Veteran walking dead ghouls Wednesday 13 returned to the Blue Note looking post-mortem as ever ready for more rigamortis, rage and deviant wrong-doing via song. Celebrating 20 years of sincere deadly dedication to all things below the grave hot and cold, their appetite for the darker parts of post-burial was morgue stronger than ever. Their 20 Years of Fear Tour began March 23 finishing May 7 with Harrison getting one of three select dates with Doyle. With eight records to choose from and a healthy dose of memoriam Murder Dolls tunes dedicated to Joey Jordison, it was a show of mixed corpse-grinding cuisine and dead deliquesces for the casual fan to the toe-tagged diehard. Wednesday walked the stage, the cold blue ringmaster, shrouded in showman’s shadow and cold blue and purple light. A mix of old west gunslinger spirit and dead sole un-graved from rest.
The Skeletons came out early opening the show with “Scream Baby Scream” as the crowd obliged Wednesday and ghostly brood with fists, horns and phones in the air.
They meant no offense with the next song but still had post-mortem intent for all gathered. It was a flashback to ’90s West Coast teen TV and a joke, according to Wednesday, that went over a lot of heads when released. “I Want You… Dead.”
“Cadaverous” was a sick and twisted reminder just how funny and creepy the metal and horror worlds owe to the grave-robbing Plainfield pervert. A backwoods pioneer of after hour excitement and cemetery arts.
Long before Covid was in the public lexicon and pandemic sounded like a metal band, they sang about personal death masks.
“Nowhere,” began the Murderous tribute to Jordison’s time with the Dolls with “I walked with a Zombie,” and “Die My Bride.” The best and darkest year of Wednesday’s history was “!97666,” and if you can spell it, sing it, “R-A-M-B-O.”
Conspiracy theorists and alien addicts say “Keep Watching the Skies.” “Serpent Society” slithered up and down the mic and guitar necks, summoning the crowd to join them.
They wanted to do very “Bad Things” to you in the nicest possible way. Under the umbrella corporation of the hailed middle finger they proudly proclaimed. “I like to say Fuck!”
The grinding, metal roar of “Abominator” chiseled through the speakers as the band took the stage. The co-creator of horror-punk was there to pound ears into oblivion, one love song at a time, unleashing two albums of material on the masses; spewing specter-filled songs against the walls of the former home of eternal rest. A painted musical predator of detailed monstrosity, flashing looks that could literary kill.
The pale shredded vagabond-vegan hit the stage hard, guitar wailing playing, marching, slamming back and forth, giving the closest fans the sinister, mean mug with a shrouded smirk, using photographers as sharp guitar pic target practice.
“Learn to Bleed” stomped, pulsating violent intent like a mean-spirited, wicked boot to the face and balls.
Doyle thrashed around covering the stage, sneering at faces, cocking head in, curious Michael Myers fashion, and monster form making hell come out of the strings like shrieking demons trying to escape.
It wasn’t Slayer but it was their way to “Show No Mercy” with from beyond the grave groove and gravitas.
The vegan bolt-necked, dead-lock vampire revved up for “Beast like Me,” while the drill-claw like scream of “Headhunter” turned necks, chiseling through the room.
The black magic voice of “Witchcraft” seared through the mic as Doyle made the strings squeak and scream in excitement and ecstasy.
The mad scientist went to work during “Dreaming Dead Girls” as the drums starting beating her back to life.
“CemeterySexxx” tapped into necro-desires with heads and necks twisting and turning like a stalking snake coiling to kill. A Geinful tune for only the most sick and twisted demented deviants.
“Darkside” conjured shadows from the dark corners of the building shrieking and dancing.
“We Belong Dead” had loud hints of old-school ballroom blitz and bodily battery.
“Dark Gods Arise,” played like a loud campfire story told in a screaming nightclub.
The burning fury of Hades ended the show with the sudden sharp-riffed pitchfork up the ass, “Hope Hell is Warm”
They stopped as loud as they started in true punk fashion leaving the stage abused, water soaked and sweat drenched.
Images by Mike Ritchie
