
Tag: testament

Metal Injection Festival Will Conquer Orange County September 16th-17th
Having served the global extreme music underground since 2004 when they were launched by co-owners Frank Godla and Robert Pasbani, Metal Injection has become the premiere source for heavy metal and hardcore news, reviews, humor and more. To celebrate the magazine, its contributors, readers and the bands they love, Metal injection has evolved into a festival with just as much power and style as they’ve always put out. Since their inception, what’s made Metal Injection stand out from the rest of the flock is the exceptional curation and vision held by its creators and family of contributors. The very first Metal Injection Festival features that same sort of expert eye for talent and timing with two nights of metal and hardcore heavyweights, old and new. At the top of the first night’s bill, Saturday September 16th’s Observatory Orange County opening night features Max and Igor Cavalera returning to their first albums, Morbid Visions and Bestial Devastation. Those who experienced their more recent Arise/Beneath the Remains tours and their Roots revival before that, know this regression in form only adds up to more volume, brutality and mosh pits because these songs, though you might not know them like the back of

Slayer’s Final So-Cal Show at Five Point Amphitheater: The Most Insane Review I’ll Ever Write
Seeing Slayer from the front of the crowd is the most violent live music experience you can gamble your life on. And I’m not exaggerating, the risk is real, tangible. Most music bloggers covering this show didn’t choose to stand where I stood, inching forward with the crowd with some kind of unconscious death wish; probably because most music bloggers have more to lose. To sum up what a Slayer show that close to the band is like, I’ll make a World War II reference like the band does on the song “Angel of Death”, their closer of the night. The front row of a Slayer concert feels like being crammed into a train on its way to a death camp, only a band is playing. Everyone is squeezed so tightly into each other that they can’t move. There’s no step you can take back, forward, to the right or left, that could give your body any relief. You’re lucky if you can move your arms. Then suddenly, you’re violently pushed in every direction, colliding with the bodies beside you and falling into them but not falling over, if you’re lucky and God forbid you do, because those that fell