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With the spirit of Ozzy Osbourne circa 1982 in our hearts, we plunge ourselves knee-deep into evil ...
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Page 2
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"There's so many people here now who are wearing my pee!" ...
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One girl peels her lips from the other woman's mouth and whispers ...
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"If this doesn't summon the madness, nothing will." ...
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New England Metal & Hardcore Fest: The Visuals
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Browse Bands by Name
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Or enter a band name below to search:
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 Bands Main
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Like many mornings, this Saturday morning begins with a pillow.
But it's not just any pillow — this one is fashioned to resemble a part of the female anatomy. Full Blown Chaos frontman Ray Mazzola awards the pillow to the first person he hears complaining about the band's set. "Some kids can't handle the live show," he says, claiming that the band's 20-minute performance during last year's Metalfest featured seven fights, with two confirmed knockouts. "We're going to have a ton of these on Ozzfest [this summer] to hand out," he says. "If kids can't deal with it, it's not our problem. That's the show. That's the band."
Later, a tan Chrysler Sebring tears past the main entrance of the Palladium, its driver honking the horn like a man possessed. The music of British prog-metal revivalists DragonForce roars dully from the car's factory speakers, and the passengers hang out of the windows, throwing the horns and screaming. The car is plastered with the word "DragonForce," fashioned from strips of blue duct tape.
We head over to the Palladium, which has been transformed into a decrepit catacomb of Hessian stink and yesterday's bourbon. Soon after 100 Demons' pile-driving main stage set, everyone heads upstairs to see Full Blown Chaos — with the main motivation being to find out who the recipient of Mazzola's award will be. Halfway through "Aggression," a kid comes stumbling out of the pit, clutching at his chest and wincing. He and a grimacing Mazzola lock eyes — ladies and gentleman, we have a winner! But the kid, realizing he's about to be publicly humiliated before a completely unforgiving crowd, sprints through a field of bodies and out the door. Mazzola shakes his head and laughs.
We head outside. You don't walk around at Metalfest — you waddle, bouncing off of sinewy T-shirted dudes as you navigate to the bar, the pit or whatever you're using as a bathroom. See, you don't use the bathroom at Metalfest — you shouldn't, anyway. By 6 p.m. on Saturday, with one full day left in the 'fest, the men's restroom is caked in a thick substance that's part wet toilet paper, part beer and other liquids, and many parts vomit.
A dude with his forehead split open comes stumbling out of the Palladium's doors. No one even blinks. We're too busy talking about tonight's headliners: reunited, revered Massachusetts metallers Overcast. The band — featuring Brian Fair, now of Shadows Fall and Transient, and Killswitch Engage bassist Mike D'Antonio — was way ahead of its time, and its influence was so considerable that without them, there might never have been a Dillinger Escape Plan, an As I Lay Dying or even a modern metalcore genre at all. We're standing outside Arch Enemy's bus discussing all this when a stream of liquid comes gushing down the sidewalk. It's coming from the bus — and yes, it's pee.
"Everybody's here," Arch Enemy guitarist Michael Amott reflects, as urine continues to gush from his band's bus. "Metalfest is where you get to meet and catch up with a lot of people. It's like a dysfunctional family reunion."
Back at the Palladium, after a vicious set from Garden State metal champs God Forbid, the hometown heroes rush onstage. "We're Overcast from Massachusetts!" Fair yells to thunderous response. He bounces around the stage during "7 Ft. Grin," looking like Medusa on a pogo stick. Like many people here, Fair has tailored — and mastered — the art of headbanging to suit his hair: He thrusts his neck and body back with one quick move, sending his ropelike dreads flying up into the air before they come tumbling back down. Dudes come crawling across the crowd, like children in the ball pool at McDonald's, to bark into the mic Fair has extended into the crowd. Suddenly, toward the end of "Grifter," Killswitch's Jones comes thundering from the side of the stage, directly into Fair, steamrolling him onto the stage.
It's past midnight, and in a room on the hotel's ninth floor, the Bad Brains' Rock for Light emanates from a cheap alarm clock/boombox on the nightstand. People in the room loll around in an inebriated fashion, including a dude who's urinating off of the balcony onto the street below. Two girls begin a heavy makeout session on one of the beds. The dudes who have been arguing with Trekkie-like zeal over which Megadeth album is the best (the answer's Rust in Peace, guys) pause and watch. One of the females, noticing the calm, opens her eyes, peels her lips from the other woman's mouth and whispers, "Whatever you're thinking might happen here won't."
This is what passes for debauchery.
We head to the next room party, where one of this year's main stage performers is surrounded by a gaggle of lovelies tussling over which one will head back to his room. He begs to remain anonymous in this article. "I got a fiancee back home, man. You understand, don't you?"
I know, I know. It's Metalfest ...
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Photo: MTV News
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