review by: Roberto Martinelli

Mission Records is a little hole in the wall record store in the heart of the Hispanic district of San Francisco. It's primarily a punk record store, but it carries a bunch of more or less related stuff, and then a bunch of random things like a Beethoven CD and mainstream pop. You can't help but like the place, though. In the back there are couches and a huge assortment of zines of all kinds available for people to walk in and read.

You also can't help but wonder how Mission Records stays open, what with its low prices, dated selection and notoriously lackadaisical approach to the weekly shows it hosts in the back room. Bands in the know are well aware of this: they could show up for a show they are supposed to play and find no one in the store. There is some doubt if Mission Records is even technically, legally allowed to have shows, but I guess in a neighborhood where many of the residents aren't legally supposed to be there, there exists some sort of symbiotic tolerance.

Utter Bastard could be considered a local favorite if only they had done a bit more than release a split album (with Irritate - see the review in issue #10 - Roberto) in the last six years. Still, there are local people who fondly remember this grindcore group whose output had been greatest about eight years ago when it put out a bunch of 7"s.

What everyone should know is that Utter Bastard has only gotten better with age and a new vocalist, Alan, who used to be with another Bay Area group, Misanthropist. Utter Bastard have been practicing regularly again for the past year, and it seems that they've got the train back on the tracks and moving as fast as their relaxed ambition will allow.

Utter Bastard opened the night in the back of Mission Records before a handful of people, in a room with a maximum capacity of maybe 40, tops. The door man was very careful to keep anything with hinges tightly closed during performances, so the show was a very homey and intimate one, indeed, with pretty comfortable seats. The band played very well, including a lot of old favorites and four songs that were written with the new vocalist.

Alan's vocals sounded great - almost like they had an effect on them - and the backup, hilariously unique high screams of bassist George Bursiago were always a hit. There were a couple of mistakes, but it was all in good fun due to the relaxed atmosphere of the show. At one point guitarist Rob Bursiago complained that he was getting dizzy because it was too loud as he had forgotten his earplugs. That aside, Rob, George and drummer Liam Deely played great. In the words of Pete Ponitkoff, the organizer of the show (and also the vocalist for Benümb), Utter Bastard "haven't missed a beat." Damn straight, they've gotten better. Hope to see more of them soon.

Morbosidad is a group of Hispanics that on this night played a deeply satisfying set of what I can only describe as war metal: sort of black, sort of death; fast and rumbling and constant and great. Ok, all the songs sounded exactly the same, but images of the Bathory shirt wearing, short haired frontman in an unwavering pose as he growled the unintelligible lyrics aroused a primal metal instinct. The drummer played with an unwaveringly tight and lightning fast attack on the kit as he blazed through fills that were too quick for the eye to follow, blast beats that were a blur and a solid thwack every time he hit the snare. I wonder if Morbosidad on CD can re-create the same kind of ambient metal enjoyment as was witnessed on this night.

Last up was Abigail, which pretty much epitomize the stereotypical Japanese noise metal band: over the top, nuts on stage, random, and reveling in a special brand of stupidity that is unique to Japan. Abigail's style is sloppy punk black metal with pretty much the same aggro beat the whole time and with ridiculous metal overkill solos. Some people like this group. For me, you hear one song, you hear 'em all, and that one song isn't anything to take notice of. Abigail was a lot smaller than I had thought. The vocalist/bass player, who wore a t-shirt with a huge picture of Laura Angel getting fucked in the ass, is about 90 pounds soaking wet and with bricks in his pants. I think the band had fun and so did the people in attendance. Pretty amazing that Abigail came all the way from Japan to play in places like Mission Records, but I guess that's cult.

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