Performers: Almost Dead, Monastery, Atheist, Cryptopsy
Date: Friday, 8 March 2024
Location: San Donà di Piave / Revolver Club / Italy
The wait for this year’s first concert expedition of a properly gnashing, clanging nature had been a long one. The kind of nature where the primal elements of death metal ritual come slicing through. Preferably a little “disoriented” — but damnably precisely disoriented. The lineup: Atheist, Cryptopsy, and Almost Dead. Two legendary bands from the extreme metal field, plus newer groove/thrash metal and hardcore flagbearers. And as if that weren’t enough, a further support act was confirmed for the opening run of dates. Unbelievable. Hungarian extreme metal veterans Monastery, who have been around no less time than the two headliners — Atheist and Cryptopsy — themselves.
Given the writer’s new place of residence, Italy is becoming an increasingly relevant destination for concert trips — especially when Veneto or Friuli-Venezia Giulia are in the picture. And once again this touring pack passed through Slovenia in transit, stopping in Graz (Explosiv), Zagreb (Močvara), and — our destination — the Venetian town of San Donà di Piave, specifically its industrial zone, where the Revolver Club is situated.
The first band, Almost Dead, hit the stage already at half past seven in the evening. In the opening stretch of the night, the venue felt like you could stroll freely among the handful of attendees at your leisure. But it turned out that was far from the case later on. Almost Dead are a Bay Area thrash metal, groove metal, and hardcore quartet from California, formed in 2002 in the city of Martinez. They currently operate under the Innerstrength Records banner and have racked up six studio albums over their career — the latest, “Destruction Is All We Know”, dropped at the very end of this past January. That one got some solid representation in the set. The quartet — Tony Rolandelli (vocals), Zack Weed (guitar), Ryan Glick (drums), and Felix Portillo (bass) — delivered massive, crushing sound. Especially fired up was vocalist Tony Rolandelli, who made himself right at home in the club like it was his own living room. With a presence that more than once called to mind a certain Phil Anselmo, putting on a performance he clearly lived through every second of — sweat pouring off him in rivers — Tony repeatedly jumped off the stage and walked through the crowd, stoking the audience. Razor-sharp chemistry and a very, very convincing sound. Almost Dead are seasoned musicians. They’ve been at it for over 20 years and remain a guaranteed good time live. Perfect warm-up, then. An excess of noise, geysers of sweat, and the gymnastic escapades of the little devil Tony.
The second band delivered no small surprise — precisely because they were confirmed right before the tour kicked off. Hungarian legends of extreme metal ritual, Monastery. The band spans three distinct eras: the earliest, from 1989 to 1994; a middle period, from 2001 to 2007; and the current one, which began when they reactivated in 2020 and recorded two studio albums in 2022 and 2023. Two members of today’s lineup are originals: drummer Róbert ‘Billy’ Kovács and guitarist Ferenc Tóth ‘Hufi’. The quintet has been rounded out since 2020 by younger blood: bassist Szanati ‘Szana’ Szabolcs, guitarist Krisztián Tóth, and vocalist Roland Kovács. Going by the surnames, Monastery have become quite a family affair — likely father-son or uncle-nephew pairings. But let’s leave that aside. The band isn’t well known in Italy, and the crowd followed them with a touch more reserve. All in all, the notably thinning-haired Monastery are a very static group on stage — but that doesn’t undercut their conviction one bit. The old-school riffs were gratifyingly ominous and brutal, and at moments the band locked into a mean, stamping groove. Their new album “From Blood” also proves that the group has genuinely updated its sound for the modern era, and that artistic transition from the old days to the new has gone very well. Especially the track Dreadful Thing. Early in the set, right after the opening and colossal death metal delirium of River of the Fallen Souls, the band tried to get the crowd moving with a hefty cover of the late British death metal legends Bolt Thrower — The Killchain. Compact, assured. In a way, for any fan of this strain of metal, practically mandatory — given the cult status of that band, which has reigned in the underground of extreme metal doctrine since 1989.
And then the main magnet that dragged the writer of these lines out of his inland lair and sent him all the way to Veneto: Atheist. A band you don’t quite know what to say about. How do you even introduce them? Humanity hasn’t yet invented all the words needed to describe their artistry — and then you’re put in the situation of having to try. Anyway. Vocalist Kelly Shaefer is today the sole original member, backed by four intensely wired musical speed merchants: Yoav Ruiz Feingold (bass), Dylan Marks (drums), Jerry Witunsky (guitar), and Alex Haddad (guitar). And the crowd? Who knows where they’d been hiding, but the venue was suddenly packed by the time Atheist hit the stage. For the Italian scene — not exactly primed for the more extreme metal spheres — an incredibly strong turnout. Even noticeably better than the Therion show that played here the following night (you’d have expected exactly the opposite from the Italian crowd). But there’s something to it. Atheist made their name on experimental fusion. They dragged a stack of genres into the extreme metal sphere, and with their technical sharpness and filigree execution, grew into one of the most revered bands around — drawing in not just extreme metal devotees but progressive metal aficionados too. Latin rhythms and jazz? All of it works at Atheist in an enviably crazy way. And since the band had promised a strict run through the material from their first three studio albums — “Piece of Time” (1990), “Unquestionable Presence” (1991), and “Elements” (1993) — you simply had to be in Italy that day. That Atheist are a breed apart was already hinted at by the taped intro: In the Flesh? (Pink Floyd). And then? Kelly, surrounded by the incredible mischief of four potent musicians who darted back and forth across the small club stage and overflowed with surplus energy and a will to prove themselves. And prove themselves they did, on many counts. A joy to watch from start to finish. Extraordinarily demanding passages, breakneck rhythmic signatures that no Dancing Fool by Frank Zappa could untangle — yet all played with featherlight ease, easy enough to picture the guitarists sipping their respective coffees with one free hand.
Kelly is a singular figure. The man is enjoying every second. He doesn’t really need to push himself. He’s completely at ease in the role of the band’s cult figurehead. In his between-song addresses he thanked everyone warmly, repeatedly and genuinely. He even remembered to apologize for his American stupidity — which, among other things, accounts for the fact that the man has to communicate with the audience in American English. Kelly’s words. At one point he asked the crowd if they were having fun. The response was a bit muted, even though the people were visibly having a blast. So he asked again: “How do you say ‘fun’ where you’re from?” Someone at the back eventually worked up the nerve to shout “Divertimentooo!!!” Kelly really is a legend. A lean, lanky figure in a flannel plaid shirt — the kind Labod could have sponsored him, if the company hadn’t been destroyed long ago at the behest of imperial forces by “Bavčar and company” — a headscarf, and with his movements and gestures Kelly came across at moments like some enlightened Buddhist, or practically a “healer” who lives off prana and root vegetables. What keeps him young, though, is that mane of hair and an infectious smile.
Almost Dead vocalist Tony Rolandelli did his part too. He spent at least half of the Atheist set going wild in the front rows, keeping an endless stream of mosh pits going — mostly on the left side of the club floor, where there was truly no reason to stand still. The band’s set turned things around in an instant. Music where you genuinely lose your bearings at times. And yet Atheist never lose their compass. Just when everything seems to be teetering on the edge of collapse, of uncontrolled fragmentation pushed along by excessive experimental maneuvering, the band catches itself masterfully, grabs the reins, settles down, and continues in a more structured phrasing mode. Though of course they don’t stay there for long. Fantastic!
The closing slot belonged to Canadian old-school death metal legends Cryptopsy. Long-running veterans of technical death metal, founded in 1988 in Montreal (the Canadian province of Quebec). In their early days they operated under the name Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, soon renamed themselves Necrosis, then Gomorrah. In 1992 they finally settled on Cryptopsy. Their debut “Blasphemy Made Flesh” followed in 1994. Their most recent and eighth studio album overall, “As Gomorrah Burns”, was released last year. Of the original members, only drummer Flo Mounier remains, with the quartet completed by guitarist Christian Donaldson, vocalist Matt McGachy, and bassist Oliver Pinard (also with Cattle Decapitation since 2018). Flo Mounier earned his reputation as one of the most technically accomplished and distinctive drummers in the genre from the very earliest era of the band, and his playing — live, and now that the man has just turned Abraham’s age — remains at an enviably high level. He confirmed that at Revolver Club too. The technical prowess is exceptional, across the whole quartet. Breakneck and chaotic blast beats stoke the horror of the incoming apocalypse, set against growls from the other side. McGachy, with his bestial grimaces, is a prime candidate for the nastiest Hollywood horror role going. He punctuates extended low-pitched growl lines with shorter high-pitched bursts. The whole presence — voice included — quickly invites comparisons to Corpsegrinder. And for good reason: Cryptopsy are a must for any Cannibal Corpse fan. No two ways about it.
The curse of this band, perhaps, is that everything they do gets measured against “None So Vile”. That album is considered one of the defining records for the genre Cryptopsy represent — even though the band has maintained its loyalty to its roots throughout, including during the period when their playing and production has looked quite different from the nineties. The excellently produced modern album “As Gomorrah Burns” confirms this. It was precisely those two albums that formed the core of the band’s setlist. From “None So Vile”, Cryptopsy played no fewer than five tracks (Crown of Horns, Graves of the Fathers, Orgiastic Disembowelment, Phobophile, Slit Your Guts). Cryptopsy kept up the hellish tempo throughout; the blasphemy never let up as fiery tongues of hell devoured the Revolver from every angle. The mosh pits, with almost grotesquely gymnastic Almost Dead frontman Tony Rolandelli at their centre, were endless. The energy: phenomenal. The band genuinely surprised when they tackled the ancient track Back to the Worms (pulled from the cult 1993 demo), and also paid tribute to debut album “Blasphemy Made Flesh” with a medley — Defenestration – Abigor – Born Headless – Swine at the Cross-Gravaged (a Cryptopsy) – Open Face Surgery – Pathological Frolic. They rounded out an excellent setlist with two tracks from the more recent “The Book of Suffering” EPs.
A top-tier pairing of brilliantly honed chemistry in the service of high technical execution. Merciless flagellation of the godless — from start to finish. The musical content of the evening was rich and varied, but above all tailored to lovers of old-school death metal with an emphasis on progressive and technical thrills. Given the legendary status of both Atheist and Cryptopsy, attending at least one date of their current joint European tour was not merely an option — it was an obligation.
text: Edita Klemen & Aleš Podbrežnik
photos: Aleš Podbrežnik
