Shiva / Skullsick Nation / Fireball Ministry / High on Fire
Friday, January 4th 2002 at the Troubadour

Shiva:
Their first three songs were slightly reminiscent of Tool or Machine Head. Too much emphasis was placed on constant rumbling drums, mostly due to the drummer's overuse of his floor toms. I kept waiting for the lead-in to end, and then I realized it wasn't a lead-in. Then came two "ballads," with a nu-metal twist. Was it just me, or did I hear a little Moonlight Sonata? The singer allowed some emotion to peek through with a few songs, and perhaps even connected with the audience, despite his constant shouting and guttural growling. Their final song, "Fear," was easily their best; bringing together all the elements of a great song - change-ups, a driving beat, and an overall energy and controlled aggression.

Skullsick Nation:
When Manhole broke up, I cried for a week. Now that flame has been re-kindled, thanks to a stellar performance by Skullsick Nation (formerly Crisis). In fact, this band one-upped former acts such as Manhole and Human Waste Project by using two guitarists. Forgive me, but I can't describe their music without first elaborating on their stage presence. It was difficult to take my eye off Karyn Crisis, their haunting trashigoth singer. She flailed her head in perfect time to her band's metallic crunching; each yank pulling her snakelike ass-length dreads around her well-sinewed body like a Predator dress rehearsal. Costume changes, props and guest appearances were popular throughout the show; the highlights include a pair of strap-on swan's wings, a self-bleeding Kris (ceremonial Malaysian dagger), and even a female version of Pulp Fiction's "the Gimp," complete with leather B&D hood and chain leash. Don't be fooled by their eyeliner or labret studs, folks -- the four gentlemen accompanying the tormented siren were all quite competent. Careful attention was paid to their equipment, so as to properly balance their synthy nu-metal edge with the downtuned thick chugging of old-skool metal. The drums were tight and crisp and the riffs were very addicting.

Fireball Ministry:
Stoner rock and heavy metal have exchanged vows, and Fireball Ministry is the sweet fruit of their holy matrimony. I cannot tell you how blessed I felt when I saw an actual Orange amp and header -- I haven't seen these since an Urge Overkill show in '91. And when Emily Burton (who could easily be Christina Applegate's stunt double) jacked her guitar into this aural shrine of equipment, I knew my penance was near. Singer/lead guitar James Rota delivered his thick psalms with a fervent zeal, his hair swirling like that of a maddened prophet's. As he exorcised the crowd's demons with his mighty flying-V, I realized I was witnessing a second coming of sorts; only this was for near-forgotten guitar rites such as bending, finger hammering, and -- have mercy upon our souls -- the SOLO. They banged their heads in ceremonial unison, perfectly synced with a kick drum and power chord; grinding out hard rock until I could feel the Holy Ghost ride his golden Harley down my throat and out my ass. I could only drop to my knees and pray. Anoint your ears with songs like "Death Dealer" and you're sure to find your salvation.

High on Fire:
This band is living proof that Girls are from Venus and Men are from Mars. I simply could not get into this trio of annoying noise rockers. High on Fire is droning and repetitive, but not in a good way (like Electric Wizard). Every song started with either an incessant speed-polka snare/hi-hat beat (which never stopped) or with a random dissonant guitar chord, strummed in sixteenth notes for half a minute straight. Picture Sonic Youth coming down with mononucleosis, and then being forced at gunpoint to perform at double-tempo.