It was a quiet, foggy night in Oakland. The students were studying; the working folk had all gone home. Not a single automobile was in any one of the normally crowded intersections. A few drifters loped across the sidewalks, muttering to themselves. If you strained your ears, you could hear the haunting shrieks of undead biker gangs as they rumbled on their wheels of fire and bone…Thus was the power over the city of Satan’s Satyrs and Windhand as they shared the stage that night, the former channeling the evil spirit of grimy, catchy occult heavy rock, and the latter summoning mournful spirits out from under mountains of cavernous, fuzzy doom riffs.
Or to put it more simply, catching these two Virginia metal bands at the Starline Social Club was a great way to spend my Wednesday night.
For a venue that’s known for its swing dancing nights, the Starline cleaned up great for a metal show. The denim jacket crowd was there in force, sporting beards, patches, and the usual doom metal fare. Beer was had by many, weed was smoked by some, and by the time Satan’s Satyrs took the stage, everyone, including myself, was ready for the groovy pummeling we were all in for.
The Richmond group kicked off their set with “Full Moon and Empty Veins,” the opening track off of 2015 ripper Don’t Deliver Us. I don’t like to use words like “kick-ass” to describe bands that I’m into, but to be honest, that’s the first thing that comes to mind when talking about Satan’s Satyrs. The riffs are heavy and catchy all at once, with just enough classic rock and just enough stoner metal (and don’t even get me started on those solos). Kick. Ass.
Singer and bassist Clayton Burgess (also a more recent addition to cult stoner metal legends Electric Wizard) led his band through a groovy set that ran the gamut through their discography, including choice tracks from their upcoming record The Lucky Ones (2018). His women’s leopard print top and casual spiked choker not only was an outfit and a half, but felt like a breath of fresh air: I’m tired of seeing metal bands wear the same three black shirts and denim jackets, and Burgess really delivered by straying from that norm.
Despite some minor technical difficulties, the Satyrs finished their set strong and left the crowd wanting more. They left the stage, and after a brief intermission, the night really began to get spooky. The lights dimmed. Sounds of wind and creaking doors played over the house speakers, literally and figuratively setting the stage for Windhand’s classic blend of occult imagery and bone-crushing doom riffs. After a few minutes of anticipation, the band took the stage. As soon as I saw guitarist Garrett Morris light a heavy bundle of incense on top of his amplifier, I knew it was over. We were in for some doom.
What I love about doom metal is, for lack of a better word, the riffs. Heavy, slow, mammoth riffs. You know what Windhand has? The riffs, and a lot of them. The room emanated with slow-motion, psychedelic fuzz seeping out of the band’s amplifiers for the next hour and then some, creating what felt like a meditative trance. The intense distortion and pounding percussion set a perfect backdrop for singer Dorthia Cottrell’s pained yet ethereal vocal delivery, calling to mind doom greats Electric Wizard melded with the melodic capacity of ‘90s grunge along the lines of Alice in Chains. Cuts from Eternal Return (2018), their new outing on Relapse Records, meshed with older songs off of Soma (2013) and Grief’s Infernal Flower (2015), giving a full exposition of the band’s sound.
One complaint that I’ve often heard about doom metal in general is that the songs are too monotonous, that they go on for too long, that set lengths and albums could be cut short for a more concise and digestible experience. However, Windhand had no struggle with this. Their set was long, but long in the sense of a complete ritual. Every song gave itself the space needed to breathe, and when the riffs continued after moments of silence it was welcomed by the crowd, who were more than eager to bask in more heavy riffery.
I left not only with ears ringing, but a calm feeling, like the slow motion doom that I had just partaken in had slowed my pulse to a trance-worthy pace. All hail the power of the riff.
Article and Photos by Kieran Zimmer