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The pandemic threw the Philly based mag's semi-annual get-together schedule out of whack. After cancellations and delays, the usual April home date was pushed back to June 2022, so as to not too closely about the Los Angeles confab, the prior December. Like the massive beer selection on-tap, the entertainment varies. (Actually, more and more, the vendors are bypassing the draft option, simply pouring the 3 oz. samples directly from the same cans Joe Public can buy, in stores, from distributors or direct from the manufacturer. However, there are no direct sales on the event floor, nor a take home option, unfortunately). Some bands are an acquired taste, the equivalent of saison or gose, sour to most palettes: not for mainstream consumption. Others are as dark and heavy as the high APV imperial stouts: copious ingestion can disorient, cause possible discomfort and should only be enjoyed by those "raised" on the stuff: no bravery for merely sampling the wares. Pre-show, the beverage "setlist" was announced at 86 entries, an assortment of beers, ciders, meads and the odd barley wine, but like any rock show, things don't always go as planned and some additions/deletions to the roster are inevitable. Sometimes an intended batch didn't work out, others are so popular, they're drained Day 1 and a hasty replacement is called up, for Saturday. 

To those that recall the pre-Internet days of perusing record store shelves, the beer tasting experience is similar. Beyond a preferred "genre" (pilsner, IPA, wheat, etc.) one finds themselves drawn to outlandish names and colorful artwork. As in past incarnations of this event, the participating bands all have some personalized collaboration with a brewery and there are even offerings from bands not in attendance. How about a Cannibal Corpse endorsed Amber Smashed Face (from the ubiquitous 3 Floyds Brewing) or perennial supporter Broken Goblet's "Doom Lager", the can label a reproduction of the Candlemas debut's artwork. In the Swedes' honor, made that the first beverage sampled: 5% opaque, black liquid, bordering on a stout, albeit less of a toasted after taste. Early on, there were more people upstairs, interested in the beers, than there were the music downstairs. Sort of a sinister plot, plying patrons with ABVs in double digits and then making them traverse a couple flights of stairs. Guess, overall, fatigue will keep the volume of drink down? By 7 PM, many were looking for/occupying the limited available seating.

Guest list snafu sorted out, missed most of The Silver performance. Next up, regional brewery Victory, and their DDH Prima, a double dry-hopped pilsner, at 5.3%. Tried to keep the numbers low, early one (long day/night), others jumped right into the deep end of the pool, headfirst, without looking! Found the drink to be translucent, with a clean, refreshing, but slight, hoppy flavor and foamy head. Craven Idol are a twin guitar foursome from the UK, churning out dirty, old school death. Energetic, to start, the singer, aka Immolator Of Sadistik Wrath, who doubles on guitar, thrashed about in herky-jerkey motions, as he snarled into the mic. The band are heavy on the black eyeliner, not corpse paint, but of the Hellhammer/Tom G. Warrior, early ‘80s variety. "Forked Tongues" stood out, amongst the din, bits of vintage countrymen Venom noticeable within the grind. Like most vendor booths, city's own Yards was giving away trinkets (buttons, stickers, patches, beer koozies, etc.), but the looped metal bottle opener drew my attention first. Discussing their beverage options, decided to revisit the 9% Cape Good Of Hope double IPA and Star Jockey (the 6% hazy IPA's artwork inspired by 8-bit video games) later. Too early for hi-test consumption.

The dichotomy of the last two weekends was not lost on me. Week ago, the technical musical precision, yet often static live performances from the left end of the metallic spectrum, at ProgPower USA and now, a mere seven days later, the ferocious noise emanating from the far end of the extreme metal dial. Live in neither world, occasionally visiting both, the confluence of the two being hallowed ground. Speaking of last week, Witherfall vocalist Joseph Michael was behind the Adroit Brewing table, handing out samples of the band's Shadows Black IPA. Toasted, caramelized, had the look and consistency of a stout, but not as heavy. Never heard of an Italian pilsner before, but Brooklyn based Kings County Brewing Collective (KCBC) introduced me to L'Inferno, a 4.7% take on the Czech/German tradition, with sweeter hops. Speaking of new things, New Jersey based Bolero Snort Brewery had a vast array of good products. Not really a seltzer, nor a carbonated soda, their Evil Water is listed as "hard fruit juice". The blackberry passion fruit had a great taste (especially for hot summer days), akin to grape soda. At 4.5% (but not a hint of what's laying below the surface), this stuff could be wickedly dangerous!

My favorite of the first day was Chicago area (Tinley Park, IL) Soudgrowler's Orange Haze, a 7% hazy west coast IPA. The rep claims it's their flagship beer. Odd, given their locale, but one taste and you'll know why. The citrus is not fake or overbearing, as these things often tend to be. Smooth, all day drinking beer, yes! Derkéta, the Pittsburgh, all-female doom outfit trace their lineage back to the late Eighties (Mary Bielich, ex-Mythic/ex-Novembers Doom has been involved). They didn't rise above the demo stage until the release of their '12 debut: In Death We Meet. A dual guitar quartet, they offer slow, guttural doom/death. Gurgling the lyrics, between songs Sharon Bascovsky resorts to a cheery, feminine voice. "Rest In Peace" was up early, the girls not moving around much, but then, guitarist Trish Bill had major cancer surgery last November. Good to see back on the "Unholy Ground" (which was also aired). Don't usually go the mead route, but something intriguing about a concoction entitled Viking Fruit Punch (courtesy of Brimming Horn): 8% made from honey, cherry, pineapple, orange and hibiscus: sweet and deep red in color. 

Cosmic Eye Brewing was a long way from home: you're not in Lincoln, NE any more, Dorothy. Tried the crisp, Dead Man's Run, a clear yellow 5% American lager. The woman behind the counter was definitely one of us, saying, "Keep it light, cause we like to drink beer. If you're drinking all day long, you can't drink that 12% stuff." Amen sister! It's Philly, so had to try something called Brotherly Love (city's motto), from Victory: a 6% hazy IPA, sweeter than most. Also on the local tip, Soul Glo was a hardcore/punk/hip hop conglomerate, with a white rhythm section. Screaming frontman Pierce Jordan recalled the days of Bad Brains' HR, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Was not the first, nor last pit of the day, but none were more intense. It's all about the aggro! On guitar (and the odd computer enhancement) is the towering, hair dyed beast Ruben Polo. Seemed like he wanted to be part of the melee on the floor, doing his best to replicate the same moves, onstage, all while torturing the strings. Although they have a drummer, Pierce also pounds out beats on an electrified, stage-front pad. The lyrics come from a different place than most metal, tales like "Fucked Up If True", "Driponomics" and "Jump! (or Get Jumped!!) relate to life on the streets, police indifference and economic struggle. A set of evil beyond religious mysticism. "Gold Chain Punk (whogonbeatmy ass)" finale is a call-response hip-hop number.

Shout out to my Athletic Brewing homies. Made their acquaintance at Decibel's LA forum. Have turned many nonbelievers into converts, thanks to the dry hopped Free Wave pale ale. Mixed amongst a sea of alcoholic choices, the fact Athletic's stock is non-alcoholic is not just shocking, but indistinguishable. Reef Wave is the N/A beer for people who REALLY like to drink (a lot of) beer. Buy it, surprise your friends when you throw in a N/A after an hour or two at a party (or beer fest). People don't notice. Haven't met anyone yet that can determine, upon drinking, that this tasty mix won't get you in trouble. Check it out! More goodness from Bolero Snort, 6% Juicy Pebulls a hazy breakfast IPA (name recalls Flintstones cereal Fruity Pebbles). Easy drinking, perhaps even more so after sampling some of the heavy hitters, it contains lime zest and is advertised to look like a jar of gumballs/candy. Can't say much about Mocama's (out of Florida) 5% Prosim pilsner, rather bland: something akin to the mass production of America's corporate giants). Gave them another shot, later, with the Cosmico IPA, to more satisfying results. 

Few more selections before Voivod hit the stage. Pre-pandemic, chocolate and coffee mixtures were all the rage, pretty absent this year. Ditto "red" beers, so Bone Up Brewing Company's collaboration with The Red Chord, a red ale going by Fixation On Red, was the initial sample of that style. 5.3%, the color is closer to light brown, until light passes through, then the crimson hue is more prominent. Sparks, NV is home to Revision Brewing, who brought along an IPA celebrating the 40th anniversary of Metal Blade Records, the label's logo feature on the cans. Tasty, easy drinking and slightly sweet, it would be something to keep the label's roster occupied, all day. King's County got me to try their 5.5% Marble Of Doom V, a blueberry, passion fruit, lemon sour. Not a fan of gose, nor most sours, have to admit the tartness was not overbearing, although outside a freebie, don't see myself ever ordering one. As a longtime major supporter of the event, Broken Goblet was afforded prime real estate, counter right atop the steps. Thus it was often packed, people passing by on their way between the floors. So as traffic waned, was able to sneak in for a 5.3% Eisenbrew Helles fest, a so-called juicy Helles, in collaboration with Napalm Records: slightly tart after taste on this one. 

By 8 PM, some vendors are out of product, shutting down for the day. Boo! Truth be told, haven't really kept up with the last couple of Voivod releases, around which tonight's set heavily revolved. True, they are a long way Away (pun intended) from the Eighties (even the Nineties) version of the band. That said, original members Snake and Away (who were mingling amongst the fans, pre-show) still remember the past and throw in just enough classics (outside of their closing signature tune, nothing prior to Dimension Hatröss, '88) to warrant new converts investigating the back catalog. "The Unknown Knows" was up second. Snake, in black leather vest, still sort of lumbering/stalks the stage at obtuse angles, matching the disjointed guitar rhythms laid down by Chewy. As Away pounded out the opening to "Tribal Convictions", the frontman chided, "Come on Philly, wake up!" Photographing the band is a lot like listening to their music, as soon as you think you've got them in focus, they're off like a shot, in a different direction. Prior to "The Prow" Snake publically sampled their Memory Failure American lager (in cooperation with Widowmaker Brewing). "Try some," he exhorted. Blue lit newbie "Planet Eaters" was as asymmetrical as anything in the past. Perhaps that accounts for its rapturous acceptance. Come the aforementioned eponymous tune, Snake swung the mic around, overhead. KCBC (generic) superhero inspired Super Sidekick is a 6.9% hazy IPA. From there on to the 3 Floyds booth, for a sample of Cannibal Corpse collab, Amber Smashed Face (amber Ale) and 5.6% translucent yellow Speed castle pilsner.

Not sure what to make of Wolves In The Throne Room, a half dozen candles lit at the base of the drum riser, batches of live brush attached to the mic stands, plenty of stage fog...they were airing the four song Two Hunters album (46 minutes, in a hour time slot)  in its entirety, for the first time. Enjoy the haunting atmosphere and perceptively dangerous chaos of Behemoth and Waitain, but this was sort of black metal for the Xbox fan, sit at home and enjoy. Having now experienced it, no desire to see it again. Emperor's New Clothes, much like Imperial Triumphant, last year. People have already commented it should be released on DVD. Agreed, for your own headlining gig, sure, but as part of a live festival, where not everyone is familiar with your work? If this is people's idea of a live entertainment, might as well shut down the venues now. For much of the performance, the band was invisible, either unlit, or buried in a thick cloud of fog and never really acknowledged the crowd. Yes, part of the black metal mystique, I get it. Dark circle eyeliner and a cape, guitarist/singer/co-founder Nathan Weaver was the primary focal point. Predominately bathed in red, the extended instrumental "Dea Artio" kicked things off. Great atmosphere/theatrics though. At least Voivod (and some of the others) compelled the audience to thrash/mosh, move around. Here, people stood in submissive reverence, nothing more than the occasional headbang, or outstretched arm. Eventually, they get the crowd to a point of catatonia, like watching Broadway, or a church service, neither of which I equate with a rock show. Near silence, then a sudden bombastic burst of open chord masturbation. Guess it looks cool, through the cell phone, but as an in-person, live experience, must be a millennial thing. Friends at Bolero Snort had one more trick up their sleeve: OVB, which is short for orange, vanilla, bull (their logo is a bull head, sing through the nose, so lots of their titles use the word "bull"), creamsicle IPA. Wow, what a respite from their sameness of beer fest and a great summer sip. Despite 6.5%, tastes just like the ice cream treat I remember from childhood. Highly recommended! Apparently, in February, they make a strawberry version. After that, Bone Up Brewing's 4.8% Extra Naked (table beer) had a light flavor. 

Good things come to those who wait, Candlemass, but first a Wasteland Wanderer ice cream sundae pastry stout (these beer descriptions are beginning to read like vintage Carcass titles!). Broken Goblet informed me that "pastry stout" implies that it contains lactose, which is an important dietary fact, for some. Dark, with a hint of banana! The Swedes, with returning original vocalist Johan Längqvist, were performing their debut masterwork, Epicus Doomicus Metallicus, in its entirety, stateside, for the first time. Well, it was all six songs, albeit not in the recorded succession. Opening with "Demon's Gate", founder/bass Leif Edling, with eyeglasses, had his flowing silver hair hanging to the middle of his back. On his right, the main in plaid (and Public Image Limited button), the Lennon spectacled guitarist Mat "Mappe" Björkman. A black leather motorcycle jacket couldn't disguise the fact Längqvist looks like Merlin or Gandalf (minus any pointy hat, nor wand) as he worked his magic, casting a bewitching (see what I did there?) spell on the multi-generational gathering. Blue/red lit "Crystal Ball" follows Lars Johansson's left handed guitar squealing in pain, under the master's fingers. Edling acknowledges that this is the first time they've played Philly (although they did hit G Wilikers, in Pennsauken, NJ, virtually right across the bridge, back on Jan. 13, 1991) and since it's the 36th anniversary (to the DAY!) of said album's release, leads the crowd in a rendition of "Happy Birthday Epicus". Too funny. "Black Stone Wielder" begins with the admission, "We don't play this too often, as it's a bitch to play, to be honest." No sweat, it comes off perfectly, with a punishing low end thump that's not been heard today. It's three across the front, as Lars solos away, stage left. A few try to mosh or crowd surf, even if teh pacing doesn't warrant it. Mappe steps center stage to start the otherwise red illuminated "Under The Oak".he moves 3/4 of the way across the stage. Midway through, there's the nearly a cappella (lone sporadic guitar) section, then a swift return to crushing heaviness: a display of dynamics that is sorely lacking in most contemporary metal. 

Between songs, there's a "Candlemass!" chant. Björkman, who is clearly relishing the band's second bite at the apple, has taken a more prominent onstage role, as evident with his out front appearance to kick off "A Sorcerer's Pledge". Längqvist pleaded, "You HAVE to help me out with this one," getting the fans to clap along. Speaking of clap alongs and dynamic changes, is there a better opening than "Solitude", from the almost spoken word entry into the Sabbath heavy sludge. Brutal. The crowd sang every word. Thus endeth the album material, but C-mass were not done, unveiling some of their best known cuts, in the time remaining, starting with "The Well Of Souls". The comedic bassist joked, "These songs (upcoming) aren't 36 years old, they're only 35 years old." There was a time, not too long ago (pre-pandemic) that Edling had voiced concerns about performing live, ever again, but given his onstage demeanor (and recent conversations offstage) pleased to report he's enjoying life once more. During Johnsson's solo, Edling walks over, mockingly gets a good look at the fretboard, even raising his glasses (for close-up inspection, those of us 50+ understand). A deep blue glow envelops the players until they seamlessly segue into more upbeat, red lit "Dark Are The Veils Of Death", practically speed metal in the Swedes' canon, although there's a seductive groove (especially near the end). While that was supposed to be the end (according to Mappe), the boys came out for "Mirror Mirror". Edling and Björkman play off one another, as, opposite side of the stage, Lars rips off one last solo flourish. Epic, legendary, pick your superlative... No better way to close Day 1.

Is it a beer fest with musical accompaniment, or a metal show with a ton of beer (Wait, isn't that redundant?)...either way, it's enjoyable. As Chicago Cubs Hall Of Fame baseball player Ernie Banks said, "It’s such a beautiful day. Let’s play two." Saturday's first band (4:30 PM) was the surprise of the festival (despite the nearly indecipherable logo): the recently reactivated Deathevokation. On the surface, four guys doing two guitar death metal is nothing new. Rather than gurgling vocals, Götz Vogelsang opts for a bellowing tone. While heavy, it's rhythmic and listenable (dare I say, infectious?).  In that regard, they recall the repertoire of Unleashed, although lyric content is devoid of Viking references. It's not just blasts and speed, there's subtlety and dynamics, at times slow-to-mid-paced. Rather than stand around, they move side-to-side and even play off one another. Good music to listen to as the beer investigations continued. First up, Ov Fire + The Void, from Atlanta's Sabbath Brewing. Most of their choices sway towards the heavy end of ABV, but this 5% Grodziskie (oak fermented wheat lager) was yellow, with a unique smoky taste. Didn't see it yesterday, so decided to try Voivod's collaboration with Widowmaker Brewing: Memory Failure, an American (?) lager. Sorry, but an appetizing beer failure. Better luck with Philly's own Love City Brewing. Their 5% Deep Cut pilsner is easy drinking, clear, yellow (verging on clear).

Bone Up Breing Co. have a 6.3% Embrace The Chaos hazy IPA. Apt subtext for the weekend. Guess what style of music band #2 plays, from name alone: Sanguisugabogg. Found the on-tap options more intriguing than the on stage one. Another offering from Cosmic Eye, the non-descript Open Hearted lager is 4.6%. Attendance is already heavier and unlike Friday, the bar area is packed throughout, although overcrowded, once the music stops (so get your drinks while the band is still on). Energy Master, a 6.8% hazy IPA from Animated Brewing was true to the genre, although for the same ABV, I preferred a later sampled Pony Helper (distinct wheat taste, but with a bit o' honey). Apart from the headliner, most of the bands play 30 minutes, with 15 changeovers. Every Day Fog is a cautionary entitled 7.1%, slightly tart, IPA from Abomination Brewing, the lowest caliber in an arsenal that featured a double IPA and 12% solution. Not sure about that company name though. Can you really see yourself telling your friends/bartender, "Yeah, I'll have another Abomination."

Venturing back to Love City, opted for the Eraserhood single IPA. The guy manning the booth told me to spread the word, to all future beer fest attendees, "Don't start w/ double IPA. Start with a single and work your way up. If you start with 12%, you won't be around at night's end." Wise advise. That said, some of the vendors were already closed, or running out of product. At some point,the sounds and the suds all begin to feel/sound/taste the same, only the truly different (whatever that means) stand out. As the early arrivals begin to wane, by 6pm, there's a noticeable second wave, eager to get their pours, but as the day wore on, it got into a danger zone, where people would take ANYTHING, which was typically only the highest ABVs, making the situation even worse. Be careful. Hardcore troupe All Else Failed is middle aged guys in shorts and jeans, looking like they're headed to a family backyard BBQ, but when they hit the stage, they jump and twirl, wildly swinging their arms/instruments with fury reminiscent of (obviously inspired,but more metallic offerings) Dillinger Escape Plan and/or Cephalic Carnage. Guess only their age/good sense prevents them from launching themselves off the drum riser, wedge monitors, etc. At any given time, only half the assemblage (augmented by a synth/computer guy, in "Abortion Rights are Human Rights" t-shirt, who doubles as second vocalist) are facing the crowd. In the flurry of indiscriminate spasmodic motions, it's truly an art that no one is either impaled or knocked unconscious. Checked back w/ Kings County Brewing Collective, for a 4.8% Czech black lager called Hades Corpses (is that a play on the legal term, "habeas corpus?"), with a hint of roasting. 

Full Of Hell was a crowd pleaser; some sang along, most circle pitted. After the first song Dylan Walker (is it me, or is there a Meta/Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg resemblance?) quipped, "Philly Beer & Metal Fest. Here's to beer. Here's to mead. I don't drink." From that point on, the lights stayed red. What is it with the lighting for this fest, traditionally dark or non-photogenic colors until after the first three songs, when photographers have to leave. What's with the aesthetic of bands who grew up jumping, singing in small, dimly lit clubs, but now afforded room and lights (especially on reunion shows) preferring to remain in the darkness of a major venue (perhaps the biggest some of them may ever play)? Know some of these bands don't seek (or outright shun) publicity, but it might help the press out if the LD would cooperate, a little. Walker doubles on PC effects (pre-recorded bits within the blackened death approach) although his onstage persona owes more to punk and something from the Anselmo/Blythe school of frontmen. Wake Brewing (Rock Island, IL) had a 5% Primitive Helles, a Helles lager in conjunction with the band Primitive Man, who played the pre-show, Thursday night. 

The Red Chord? Metal snob in me would say it's closer to hardcore delivery. Red searchlights sweep the floor, which looks like a Covid infected petri dish, human amoebas squirming endlessly in every direction, until the precise moment they form a ring (if not concentric circles). Personally and professionally, I have no ties to this band, but know they were playing Clients album, in its entirety, for the first time. Upstairs, many of the vendors are done, there's puddles on the concrete floor, yet zombies still wander in search of the next (free) pour.

For Nuclear Assault, this was supposedly their final US show (rumor has it they received $20,000 for the gig), playing the entire '88 full length debut Game Over, in sequential order. Although no longer a skinny little long-hair, with bill up-turned cap, John Connelly was instantly recognizable, even with glasses on. No one cuddles/cradles a Flying V quite like John. Looking back at the scene of nuclear devastation, as depicted on the album artwork, on screen, behind them, he deadpans, "Why is that guy carrying a briefcase?" Sadly, as we learned on 9-11, no one knows when/where events will happen. To his left is towering bassist Dan Lilker, who DOES look the same as back-in-the-day: a veritable living Muppet, a curly mop of hair flops as he plays/sings. Lilker chimes in between songs, Connelly content to basically handle (with care) just the lyrics. When he does offer a story, it's an odd comedic tale of touring with Cannibal Corpse (the headliner to follow) in Greece, discussing penises and a misunderstanding about being labeled "homo." Hope people understood what he was talking about. Speaking of funny moments, taking a sip, Danny plugged their fitting titled Brain Death double IPA (courtesy of KCBC), to which John raised his Bud Light, with a few choice words. "We haven't played some of these songs in 30 fucking years," the singer admitted. "Radiation Sickness" sees a massive circle pit. Next up, Lilker announces, "This one is for the Catholics." he then spits through the rapid fire succession of the short lived "Hang The Pope". Not sure newcomers/non-fans know what he was saying, as the minute long ditty offers a short intermezzo for the rest of the guys. Much of the onstage 80s dynamics remain, each band member separate from the other, rarely, if ever, together. Dirty bass kicks off "My America". Strange, seeing Nuclear on a big stage, as always seemed more at home in small, sweaty environs of a club. Winding down the album, but revving up the classics, "Vengeance" gives way to the "Brain Death" finale. Few minutes left, but that's all they need to run through the opening pair off Handle With Care, aka "New Song" and "Critical Mass".

Trying to recreate the ‘80s is like capturing lightning in a bottle. Interesting, how 35+ years later, bands like Nuclear Assault and (recently toured) Vio-lence have taken on a greater importance than they had "back-in-the-day," now conveniently lumped in with the top tier acts, by those who weren't there, but are longing to revive/relive a portion of that era. No such problems for Cannibal Corpse, long acknowledged as one of death metal's pioneers. Through mega-fan/BW editor Metal Tim have met most of these guys, backstage, on our travels to Europe. Despite what the fans might want, or the general public's belief, the tour bus is not aligned with rows of shrunken heads, nor some grim Ed Gein style display of debauchery. Like author Stephen King, or renowned horror actor Vincent Price, the job does not define the person. With the rest of the band already in place, human behemoth George "Corpsegrinder" Fisher slowly strolls onstage, alone, and stands with back to the crowd. The place erupts and when he spins around, to start "The Time To Kill Is Now", almost instantaneously begins pinwheeling his hair. Later, he'd take on all comers (Have you seen the size of that guy's neck? Would put some NFLers to shame!), declaring (beforehand), "I am the best", then setting about to pinwheel for half a minute, non-stop. When finished he stepped back and made the championship belt motion, around his waist.  New Jersey native Erik Rutan is shredding, stage left, while mainstay Alex Webster weaves a wicked web up and down his four strings. "Inhumane Harvest" was up third. The parade of surfers over the wall is almost as relentless as is the circle pit, threatening to carve a groove into the Fillmore floor. All the violent lovelies that have gotten them noticed/in trouble, over the years, are here: "...Knife", "...Blood", "Stripped..." and saving the one that was literally banned in Germany, for over a decade (forbade from performing live), for last, "Hammer Smashed Face". 

OK, it won't be for almost another year, but I'll make the motion now. Who wants another round?