review by: Roberto Martinelli

This was a pleasantly curious bill: two well-established metal bands with no opening acts, meaning the show would be over at an early time. Insane metallers need their beauty sleep, too.

Strapping Young Lad were very entertaining. Gene Hoglan’s drumming alone was worth it. Seeing Hoglan’s mix of enviable, totally ambidextrous skills and the way he would shake his head side to side during his sections of intricate cymbal work, causing his hair to form a shambling, shifting entity of its own will, were entertaining. The band’s set was heavy and professional, fronted by Devin Townsend’s (below) usual uniquely off-the-wall banter.

There can’t be another guy with a shtick like Townsend. It’s well calculated. With hair that’s just about nonexistent on top but long every where else, he looks like the metal Terry Bradshaw, and like that famous football player turned TV commentator, his goofiness make it all work.

In Meshuggah’s world, there is no such thing as a six-string guitar. Even seven-string axes are a rarity. No, both guitarists in this wildly popular, spastically technical band use eight-string instruments, leaving the bass player and his very normal looking four-stringed guitar quite out of place.

Ever since I can remember, people have been describing this Swedish group’s music as being “played by androids.” It does have that inhuman, choppy but precise feel to it. Thus, I’ve always associated Meshuggah’s music with the instantaneous, sudden and random movements of small birds, or the zombies from “Night of the Living Dead.” Watching vocalist Jens Kidman’s performance on stage, it turns out I was right on both counts.

Kidman would strike this pose with eyes rolled back and chin jutting out, looking kind of like a thin, bald, Swedish monster of the Godzilla pantheon. He would stick his angular arms out and turn his head side to side in a robotic fashion.

Meshuggah was of course totally impressive. Their technicality is amazing, but there’s something about their chuggy music that never satiates the listener. It just doesn’t break free of its chugging restraints to rip into something unbridled. So it’s kind of frustrating. The songs also sound quite alike. Still, the biggest crowd response seemed to come from the playing of older material, particularly from Destroy, Erase, Improve, which coincidentally was before they started to get chug-happy. Having had enough robotic technicality for one evening, I slipped away to go work on my own musical skills.

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