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Show Report: Infinitum Obscure / Nominon

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 July 27 2010 at 06:51:01 AM



Serenade for destruction. It’s 90 degrees at 10 p.m. Los Quatros Locos in full effect across the street from us, Morbid Angel screaming out of treble-heavy sedan speakers, Natty Lite cans littering sidewalk. Locals Malefic (no relation to Facebook warrior, Scottus Connerus) put wraps on swansong show; some band with Latin name follows. Crowd grows; even John Mincemoyer’s flown in for the big night. I spy anathema: White t-shirts on merch table. More Schlitz. Los Quatros Locos decimate first of three Natty Lite 30-packs and head out for more, Morbid Angel now Crumbsuckers. I feel like I’ve got a sprinkler lodged somewhere mid-scalp. More Schlitz. I am told roughly half of the material on this site is “likeable.” I imagine that’s material I have nothing to do with. Stevie is shrooming from a night ago. He looks like it. Infinitum Obscure begins. They are wearing leather pants. It must be close to 110 degrees in the warehouse. More Schlitz. I am told the artwork for Teitanblood’s Seven Chalices is interesting, but the music is not for them. I am wearing a Teitanblood shirt signed in silver paint pen by NsK and TK with “Best Wishes” in balloon font drawn exiting a rabid badger’s colon just under the right armpit by Mr. Kittens. (I’m a fan. What can I say…?) Infinitum rules. Drummer Ezequiel looks like he’s going to pass out. “We’re from Sin City, Teee-ya-won-ahhhhh!” Roberto screams. Thick-assed ladies line stage right, leather pants creaking under the collective weight of their buttockses. More Schlitz. “Seeding Darkness!” Fuck yeah. Los Quatros Locos has secured stagefront, spitting Spanish insults, hurling sweat in all directions—a massive piss-drunk sheepdog shaking off after long dip in clogged urinal trough. (I wonder if Evan’s sold any white tees? Mincemoyer cases merch while Infinitum plays…) “Messenger of Chaos!” One bandito grabs me and we scream. And then they’re through. Leather panted ladies gone. Show over. Nominon still swilling Pabst and Natty Lites. Perra Karlsson practicing blastbeats with one hand while he downs his 400th Natty Lite Ice. Some kid asks him where he got his Impaled Nazarene shirt. He frowns. I leave. Entrust Shrooming Stevie with remainder of show. He says:

Having Nominon return to our shithole of a city was an honor. It’s rare that Atlanta hosts bands of this underground nature. Thanks to Evan “Deathgasm” March, they continue to happen. Back in 2008 Finland’s Horna played in an Atlanta suburb to a whopping 30-40 degenerates. Couldn’t believe it. (That 30-40 number is popular; it seems to be the average turnout for “underground” shows around these parts.)

By the time Nominon decided to spew forth their hymns of death, I was a bit saddened to see the crowd had thinned. Perhaps it was the 90+ degree temperature inside. Or the five empty cases of rot gut domestics. Or maybe it was the fear of getting gunned down outside on Wells Street. I give it all I can and bang my head. And then it starts to hit me: Dehydration. I was probably one of five people there not drinking. And then something else, other than a beer can, hits me: Envy. I even brought a mixed cooler full of fancy beer for the bands to show thanks. Had not had a drop nor a toke all day because I was choosing the “responsible” route. Chugging lukewarm water from the tap does nothing to satiate my discomfort, so I grab some ice from the cooler. This does little. I attempt to bang some more, but fuck, I must’ve given more to Infinitum earlier in the night. My neck feels like spaghetti, my brain swollen, jaw now aching from gnashing teeth. The pit was smaller indeed, but what it lacked in girth was made up for in vigor via front row bangers. I observed the last five or so minutes from the back, finally making the genius decision to assess the sound quality of the evening’s show. Verdict? Success. As the show came to an end, I reclaimed my cooler, said my fuck-yous, and drove off into the night still trying to grasp why someone would drink Natty Ice over Fat Tire.

[Stewart Voegtlin & Steven Brown]

Comments (4)

  • 67 comments
    chauncey chomperz
    7:34 AM on Jul 28, 2010 // reply »
    fuck. I knew this was going to rule. I was out of town when they played ny.
  • 4 comments
    T
    7:36 AM on Jul 29, 2010 // reply »
    Ha, no Fat Tire for the Swedes! Several times during the night Nominon's new vocalist mentioned to me in a Natty slur about how much he loved our American beer.
  • 1 comment
    UA
    2:28 AM on Aug 04, 2010 // reply »
    Man, that guy at the far right in the picture looks completely possessed Evil Dead style.
  • 40 comments
    The Right Hand Path
    7:12 AM on Sep 08, 2010 // reply »
    I can't help but laugh at this ultra cool & wacky gig review \M/
 

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