|» Cellador 2006 08 04||
Tourname: Cellador Enter Deception Tour
When Wendy and I found out Cellador were going to be in Columbus on Friday, we contacted all our friends and drove up to witness the youthfull expertise. We arrived around 8:30 only to discover that the band themselves were delayed in traffic. We had scheduled an interview with them through Metal Blade: but now we knew we were going to have to wait for a while. Upon the realization that there were three opening bands, each given almost an hour to perform, we ruefully felt we were in for a long night. As it turns out, we rather enjoyed ourselves recognizing two very talented Ohio artists who even though unsigned; conducted themselves quite professionally.
First to hit the stage was the wolf fearing trio of Krynos. Hailing from Newark, Ohio these menacing sharp-tooth grinning guys garnered quite a loyal following. A thrashing throng of devotees wearing silhouetted Krynos black and white shirts adorned the front of the stage. This made the band feel right at home, given there mental mastication. Their overt Metallica meets Megadeth culture could consume me as I verily noticed vocalist/bassist Sam Stockdale's dalliance and mirrored approach to James Hetfield.. His blind illusion bass playing also resembled Les Claypool's prime assiduity and the proper pain and punishment of Gary Meskill. Guitarist Sam Dodd dodged the pure enemy antics of anticipation when he played Gave Me Life replete with it's she-wolf and man like referentials. The band seemed obsessed with lyrical lycanthropy as fan favorite I Am Wolf sunk it's teeth into my mettle nerve. The highlight of their set had to be their killer killswitch cover of For Whom The Bell Tolls downtuned into F on the bass strings. This version was played even heavier than Jason Newsted's fast and furious style. The drumming by Greg Moran - mercurially mephitic recalled the glory days when the Large Oil Rig actually had fuel left in him.
The name of the band is derived from the Latin verminology refering to the wolf-like nature commonly found in man. The band anticipate covering the Metallica and Megadeth like lupine lacerations, someday, respectively. They distributed their demo freely to all fans, and after several listens I understand why Krynos creates quite a stir; biting down hard on their fledglings. We thank the band for their munificence as they generously gave myself and Wendy both male and female concert shirts and a band sticker. Overall faith finds me feeling quite satiated.
7 chalices of 10
My soul was not set to be sealed in sweet blood. My mind sour and sanguine wandered during the opening song; slowly spilling the blood of boredom as these metal - death - core college kids chaotically inconsistently malcreated inept inchoate choruses. Therefore, Wendy and I used our time wisely to efficaciously engage in solicitous suggestion; getting to know Krynos credulously.
As the quintet of contraception cautiously unleashed a guardian angel from the cage in Hell, we entered their dark paths of perdition. Caje who's logo, when inverted, spells the END, exploded exponentially. The long haired lead guitarist, while wearing his Dream Theatre shirt, soloed like a swaggering solenoid. Caje's contumacious malice matriculated when drummer, Charles Goddard, sojourned onto the witch hunt, kneeling with pertinent potential. The confined Caje in heat, reeked with a wrecked within temptation. This was forsworn when the terror squad squeezed out a squalid squeal and blistered into X-natas - a speed metal mazurka - gone berzerk! This fast thrashing threnody revealed the band's bar sinister bonded taste for blood and the forbidden Bay Area sound. Each musician is quite proficent on his instrument; except for the vocalist.. His monotone, mundane meandering seems to subtract from Caje's contagion. This was obvious when the closing number of the beat - an average rendition of The Trooper - was played well on bass and guitar by the boys clad in Eddies uniform; but vocally sounded worse than Blaze Bailey intoxicated.
I dutifully appreciate that the band gave me a complimentary copy of their digipack demo, professionally produced. There are some serious burners on this CD, which I would have relished in their live set. Overall the band merited decent crowd participation. The short haired guitarist,, decked out in his Ed Hunter regailia; with a throwing morning star stapled to his guitar strap, poised and posed perfidiously, flaunting the devil horns while Wendy snapped a picture of his vehemence and vitriolic visage.
7 chalices of 10
By now it was Saturday mourning, and the bedsore biparous band had only arrived an hour previous, providing them very little time to load their gear; no less sell shirts and CDs. I agreed to watch their merch booth so they could get ready to perform. Sadly, as the night lingered on, the crowd had grown thinner and more sparse, as many innebriated dedicates had now departed or grown silly and sluggish.
The boys were not a bit concerned and played to the bleak crowd with heartfelt enthusiasm. Instantly the keyboard and chimed overture blasted out over the speakers and the whine from cellar door burst open unveiling a sign far beyond. Mike Grimeo, dutifully dressed in non-metal attire accentuated by his bandana and flip-flops, bloviated and bleated out with his shrill cry, leaving all wimps and posers behind. Never again will I criticize the metal minded youth of today, as brilliant bands like Cellador recoil and dispell the myths of mettle. As fans sang along with the opening song, envisioning the band's video, everyone felt forever unbound; breaking the change; eschewing the profligate posers; causing cerebral hemorrgage, seen through time. As Chris and Bill battled with their axes goading and grinding away; Chris screamed out, "Take control of your life!". Despite the long day, our wakening - well nigh - wellsprung as we celebrated the moribund dance. The wanton warble of the majestic Mike mirrored Mr. Kiske during their extravagent rendering of Eagle Fly Free - where each musician has his own solo. Cellador were initially reluctant to perform this key keeper; since several shows, played earlier, the audience had not recognized it. I was ever so enthusiastic that they opted to play this killer cover, and I sung every word with Mike into his mike. Thinking they had no chances left, the band prepared to finish their set. They were astonished when the crowd screamed in unison "One More!". Having played every song from Enter Deception, with the exception of Releasing The Shadow; Bill, Chris, Val, Dave, and Mike meticulously performed this piece, impromptu and unrehearsed in a flawless fashion.
Then just as it had began with an erruption, the cellar door closed with a bang and the boys were gone. Not really though, as they quickly stowed their gear and made haste expediently to the now busy merch table where I was straining to stave off a huge line of voracious souls; ever eager to purchase posters, shirts, and CDs. I'm thankful the band was able to create abundance and pocket some coin from their officious efforts. They diligently worked this whole night free of complaint, having very little time to rest. Bear in mind that they had been driving all day themselves just to reach the gig. Wendy and I gave the boys some breathing room and time to recuperate before we engaged them in an awesome interview.
9,5 chalices of 10