Amon Amazing

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Well, WordPress sucks dick. I just wrote a whole review of the show and it didn’t save my draft. So here it is again.

Aside from having a blast with IZM, I was set to have another blast with the Amon Amarth show in Israel.

On July 27, my husband removed the baby car seat from the back of the car, we picked up three of our Jerusalem metalhead friends, and dived into the so-humid-it’s-virtually-a-pool weather of Tel Aviv. The venue was small for the likes of Amon Amarth, but was bigger than I expected. The size of the stage and the way the crowd piled up all the way to the edge of it indicated that there would likely be no pyro-techs.

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In a previous post, I wrote that there is no way that the band could reproduce the awesomemess of their Wacken performance, and I was right. But I also wrote that they would still deliver a kickass show, and I was right about that too.

The two performances cannot be compared – we’re talking about a gigantic stage in the open air with tens of thousands of German metalheads thrashing around, versus a small scale show, a small stage in a closed venue, with around 1100 people crammed inside, drenched in sweat.

But it’s Amon Amarth we’re talking about and they deliver. Johan’s vocals are second to none, the guitars and the melodies reproduced EXACTLY as they are in the records, with no stupid alterations of the solos as many artists tend to do in their live shows, no useless longass speeches between songs – only blasts of song after song after song, that kept me headbanging till my neck went limp, and screaming till my throat became all bloody.

I was delirious with joy. Every once in a while, when a song ended or began, I found myself laughing hysterically out of sheer pleasure. I was screaming, pumping fists, throwing up metal horns, and headbanging myself silly. I noticed a girl standing in front of me, looking back at me every once in a while with an expression that said “what the fuck are you doing?”

Well, to answer your question, I AM HEADBANGING MY BRAINS OUT, BITACH! How is it that you’re NOT?! Are you hearing this?!

So yes, Amon Amarth has that effect on me. And no lack of fireworks, or presence of a roof, or so much sweat on my face that my hair stuck to it, could ever change that.

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The best thing about it, as my husband said, was the fact that after such a long time of being out of the metal scene, we were finally back in. With my pregnancy and the birth of our daughter, we couldn’t afford to have a night of good old sweaty screamy thrashy metal show like we’re used to. We attempted to go to metal shows and metal nights when I was pregnant, but I kept being paranoid about the cigarette smoke and the loud music that could harm my baby. And we simply could not enjoy the show. And now we’re back, and we went back into it with a live version Pursuit of the Vikings. Fucking A!

Peace, love and metalheads forever!

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Neck Breaking in Progress

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Since I received the Arch Enemy concert tickets last week, I’ve been on metal overdrive, as any devoted metalhead should be, especially when her favorite metal band comes to town, and even more especially since it’s her favorite metal band’s first time in this town.

I’ve read lots of comments by metal fans from outside Israel protesting Arch Enemy’s gig saying that Israel is an “apartheid” state, and that its metal community does not deserve to have any decent entertainment. How they manage to rationalize this argument is beyond me, but I digress… I say I deserve to enjoy a decent metal show, or as Arch Enemy will wont to say, a “Pure Fucking Metal” show.

So in preparation for it, I’ve been planning the clothes, the makeup, the accessories, (the hair is irrelevant because no matter how I style it, I will leave the venue looking like a troll doll) but most importantly the strategic aspects of the event. I’ve been to two metal shows this weekend – a tribute concert for Death on Thursday night, and a metal night of local bands on Friday night – and mentally noted a few significant strategic pointers that may help me in my endeavor on January 24.

First, if I plan on enjoying myself, I need to travel light. I will not take a purse. I’ll put whatever change I plan to bring with me in my ID jacket. I will separate my housekey from my heavy rattley keychain and stuff it in the ID jacket, too. I’ll need my cellphone in case I lose sight of my cousin or my boyfriend during the show, but I will make sure to post a status on Facebook informing people that I will not answer any calls or texts because I will be too busy enjoying myself. I’ll also bring my camera. All these things, along with the tickets, should fit quite well in the pockets of the pants I plan on wearing.

Second, I need to find a place that is not too far back, but not too crowded either. I don’t want to be sucked into the moshpit, and I need space to headbang myself catatonic. And for that purpose, I need to do some serious stretching exercises. During the Death tribute concert, I headbanged to one or two songs at most, and my neck was stiff until the following day. On the Arch Enemy show, I expect the metal demon to possess me completely, thus making me headbang practically the entire time. Without stretching first, I will no doubt be paralyzed for a week or two.

The biggest complication is the fact that January is a brutal month of the year and while I will be on metal overdrive, winter will be on cold-vengeance overdrive. Even if it will be a complete schlep, I won’t survive without a winter coat. But if it doesn’t rain that day (praying to the Badass Goddess of Metal that it won’t) I should be ok with a pair of Converse shoes. If I wear my boots, with heels, headbanging will prove to be rather tricky because I’ll lose my balance.

Other more minor things have to be considered like what to eat beforehand (something light or nothing at all, so that I won’t be caught with a stomach ache), transportation (if my boyfriend plans on drinking, he might not want to take his car), time of arrival (ideally at 9:00 p.m.)…

I think I’m ready. I think I’ve been ready since I first heard of Arch Enemy. I am so psyched!! This world doesn’t have enough ass for this concert to kick.

Peace, love and 37 days left!

Crystal Nacht

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You know that feeling you get when you know that your body is up and about, but your mind and spirit is still in deep sleep? Yes, I woke up this morning after sleeping for about three hours. I feel my inner child is nice and sleepy, all warm and cosy in her one-piece fleece PJ. My brain was sick of taking a beating so it left God-know-where. And my body is in pain – my tummy, my lower belly, behind my eyelids, my temples.

What did I do to wake up in such a state, you ask? I can’t really detail it here seeing as this is too much of a public forum, but let’s just say I’ll be doing a hell of a lot more of it when I’ll be in Amsterdam in June.

But yes, last night was awfully swell. Definitely ranks in my top three best nights of my life – the first being the night I saw Arch Enemy live in Montreal and met my role model and my rebel grrrl inspiration, Angela, backstage. The second was yet another night I cannot detail here, but it was an experience that caused me to relentlessly massage my cousin’s breasts and belly, smearing sweat mixed with dog fur all over her black nylon shirt, and enjoying the fuck out of it. As a mandatory sidenote – there was nothing sexual about it, so get your incestuous assumptions out of your mind. It was all very innocent, and very very pleasant, for both me and her.

Come to think of it, all three nights resulted in me being completely out of it and in extreme pain the following day. The day after I saw Arch Enemy, I was paralyzed from the neck to my midsection from headbanging my little heart out. I was deaf because my head was about a foot away from the speakers. And I was mute because I screamed and growled along to the songs, and I just couldn’t help it. It simply possessed me.

The second best night of my life ended at 5:00 a.m. the next day so in reality, the pain began the following day. I didn’t eat for 28 hours, and lived on water and gum the entire night. So the initial pain was a random craving for potassium. I scored a banana and was pretty happy. My jaw and my shoulders were clenched the entire night, so I was pretty sore as well. But what was worse was the emotional pain it caused, which lasted for a good two weeks. I simply could not stop crying. If you’ve ever had that experience that I could not detail above, you would know what I’m talking about.

And now this. Hungover, exhausted, swallowing in silence the pain in my cervix, yet totally basking in the afterglow of an uterly deliciously sinful night.

Although this awesome night took place in between two tragedies – the suicide bombing in Morocco, where my cousin-in-law’s sister was killed, and Holocaust Memorial Day which starts tonight – the Good Lady knows I will get a super awesome night sleep tonight, even though I’m sure She didn’t much approve of yesternight’s activity in my body.

Should I feel guilty? Well, I don’t. I’m done with guilt. So done with it. I deserve to be happy, and I deserve to relish the pain.

Peace, love and Sunday sucks anyway.