This would be High on Fire's second time coming through San Luis Obispo, the first being almost two and a half years ago (with a relatively sparse metal offering in between); needless to say, the tight-knit collective of San Luis Obispo metal-heads and doom aficionados were more than ready for the evening's show.
Approaching the small venue, I walked past individuals with their "Blessed Black Wings" back-patches and Sleep shirts, and I knew that I was in the right place.
Being an all ages show, I was pleasantly surprised to see a number of younger kids and even children in attendance, mingling with the assortment of beardos and long-hairs. They immediately flocked to the merch table and promptly loaded up on shirts and vinyl (which included a rather unique shirt with Richard Pryor's face on it).
An unexpectedly large amount of people began filtering through the merch-stand, booze, and mingling metal-heads to take their battle stations at the stage's edge in preparation for the openers. SLO brew's stage is barely able to fit a four piece band, but it was somehow able to fit the imposing back-line of Emperor cabs, Verellens, Soldanos, and Blackstars that the bands loaded in (Pike took the "-tar" off the end of "Blackstar" and replaced it with "Blacksabbath").
Shortly after assuming battle positions, the previously unannounced openers took the stage. Painted Wives is a four piece from Costa Mesa, California that describe themselves as "Post-grunge/alternative metal." Based on appearances, I had expected Painted Wives to sound like The Sword or any number of proto-metal bands out there today– a pentatonic worshipping, groove-laden revival of 70's stoner-isms. Well, appearances can be deceiving. Any connection to The Sword, etc. I had established prior to their first note vanished as the band ripped into a down-tuned, sinister groove to open their set. I was very impressed by their unique take on doom. I would compare them to a less-suicidal Acid Bath with a very bombastic Mike Patton-esque sensibility. Overall, Painted Wives' set was highly enjoyable for an opening slot band, featuring a unique sound and several headbang-able moments.
High on Fire was greeted to glorious battle-cries and applause from the audience, which, by this point in the evening, had swollen in size to fill every corner of the venue, leaving no room for movement… no escape. Pike and company immediately launched into "Furywhip," literally whipping the crowd into a frenzy. A circle pit developed in the middle of the venue matching the breakneck pace of the song, much to the dismay of the security guards present. A man jumped from the left side of the stage, over the heads of those pressed against the monitors, and landed right on his fucking face in the middle of the pit. He was promptly trampled by a few people before being helped up. He then rejoined the circling barbarians, unfazed and possibly missing brain cells. Pike barked his way through a number of other songs drawn from crowd favorites and older material, namely "Blood From Zion" and "Fireface" from 2000's Art of Self Defense album.
Though the audience appeared to appreciate the older material, they roared loudest for "Madness of An Architect," off of 2012's De Vermis Mysteriis. The opening, fuzz-encrusted riff of the song shook the very foundation of the old brick brewhouse; not one person in that venue stood still when the band finally locked into the massive groove of the song's verse. Missing from the set were a few crowd favorites, namely "10,000 Years,""Frost Hammer," and "Rumors of War," of which this writer was looking forward to hearing very much. However, Pike and company saw fit to end the evening with my personal favorite track: "Snakes For the Divine," the megalithic, anthemic title track from their 2010 album. No one present could deny the power inherent in those earthshaking riffs. "Cities come alive and they will die," sings Pike on Snakes for the Divine; "Rise up, fall down / Ten thousand years are left behind / Rise up, rise up tonight." Fists in the air, every man, woman, and child singing along: truly, High on Fire are masters of their craft. And their craft is to rock-the-fuck-out.
Pike, Matz, and Kensel exited the stage, guitar and bass wailing out feedback from the intimidating amp back-line. The sound was brutal, piercing eardrums and laying waste to the senses. And everyone loved it. Needless to say, San Luis Obispo is ready for the next HoF tour to come through our small, humble town.
Words: Ian Fetters
High On Fire.Net
