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Eyehategod is the most spiritual of the metal bands. They play doom
metal, which is generally the most spiritual strain of metal -- at
its best it induces very hard trances (Sleep’s towering masterpiece,
Jerusalem, being the example that leaves least room for doubt),
and its pedigree (sired by Sabbath, out of Blue Cheer) is sterling.
They play a version of doom metal that leaks catchy riffs in over
the sludge-drizzled bottom end from time to time, always with a sort
of self-conscious ear for how jarring it is to suddenly hear a major-key
riff when it’s been all screaming and feedback up to that point.
They crash loudly and constantly; they attempt to overwhelm at every
turn; they brandish, on their album sleeves, all the token obsessions
of a very particular subset of the counterculture: images of the Blessed
Virgin Mary, old black-and-white photographs of prosthetic attachments,
stills from ‘50s bondage magazines, pieces of clipart propaganda.
Their live show is genuinely terrifying to behold, because the threat
of chaos seems real and constant. A casual observer at an Eyehategod
show finds himself assailed by visions of expensive week-long hospital
stays whose costs might have been entirely avoided if only one could
have rid oneself of the nagging curiosity about just how out-of-control
a band this audibly explosive might get onstage. |
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