305 Fest 2012, Day Three
With Shitstorm, House of Lightning, Iron Lung, Bastard Noise and others
Churchill's Pub, Miami
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Better Than: Chinese checkers in the dark.
According to the Bible, the Lord spent the seventh day of creation resting, and that's why Sunday is so boring.
O.G. British crusties, Crass, on the other hand, had a different take on Judeo-Christian beliefs and values: "Jesus died for his own sins. Not mine."
Accordingly, the sweat-soaked maniacs at 305 Fest have no use for a "day of rest." If these mosh junkies had their way, every day of the year would be a day of fest. But unfortunately, you can only jog the circle pit for so long before you find yourself huffing Wite-Out in your cubicle on Monday morning.
Local grindcore favorites Shitstorm had their back patio audience frothing at the mouth like rabid dogs. We're talkin' Category 5 mosh conditions with rates of crowdsurfing hitting record breaking levels.
House of Lightning crapped out thick, sonorous riffs that had more to do with ol' timey rock n' roll than newfangled punk rock. What brings all of these genres together? Reefer.
Seattle's Iron Lung put a halt to the extreme music crossbreeding that was rampant the whole weekend. Their approach was one of pure powerviolence formalism: the speed of light riffage kept the pit churning and the blast beats had nearly the entire audience fist-pumping along to the relentless machine-gun rhythm.
Ironically enough, 305 Fest 2012's crown jewel headliner turned out to be the least moshable band of the entire weekend. After three straight days of high-energy rockin', rollin', boozin', and usin', the audience had no option other than sitting slackjawed while soaking in the mighty force that is The Bastard Noise. Forsaking the caveman crust and harsh power electronics of previous incarnations, the trio hacked away at their impossibly intricate prog-metal epics with a surgeon's precision.
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SHOW ME HOW
From The Stage: "We'd like to thank Roger for wearing a hat all weekend."
Most Valuable Mosh: The ogre with the dread-mullet and the plumber's crack who tried to start a pit pyramid only to be trampled by a jabroni in an Operation Ivy t-shirt.
Anarchists Only Drink Herbal Tea: Because proper tea is theft.