At some point around 2am on Thursday I had woken up to see a text on my phone from Evan that RISK would be opening at this show, making it their official debut. Peach offered to drive as they had planned on a quick practice at the cheese factory beforehand. After sitting through an hour or so of traffic we arrived at the Fulton Market around 6:30, unloaded the equipment real quick to the front door and proceeded to search for parking. I pointed out a spot in front of semi-truck right around the corner where Peach performed some highly shady parking maneuvers, including backing up into the HUGE truck behind him. After that minor ordeal we returned to their practice space, through the epic walk in freezer of seemingly endless gourmet cheeses (including some 8-year old Extra Sharp Cheddar, more on that later). I think it took more time to load everything in and down the dark stairway to the basement than it took for them to actually play. They set up and ran through their set once while I broke down weed for the remainder of the evening. Before I know it we were dragging the cabs back upstairs and loading them into "Niohoggr", formerly "Nifelheim". All the vans the company uses get their names from Norse mythology (Yggdrasil included). Now I've driven some "worn-in" work vans in my time but this one emanated noises from the engine and various bearings and connection points that began to sound more organic the harder the gas pedal was pushed, where it would usually take a second or two for the the gas to actually kick in when pressed upon.
We arrived at Summercamp a little after 7:30, where Danny pulled an epic U-turn on Kedzie to park almost right in front of the house. So we loaded out, smoked, and began to file into the basement, where maybe 20 people had gathered. Now I've only been coming to shows for only about a year and a half and am meeting new people at every one, but I didn't recognize 99% of the crowd tonight, and very young they seemed. I noticed while Risk was setting up, the several kids right up front socializing, slightly amused that they might not be ready for Evan when he grabs the mic and begins assaulting the crowd. And as I learned that evening, Evan's small stature and boyish looks (complete with Hitler Youth hairstyle) are just scenery; dude is a maelstrom of fearsome moshing violence.
Instead of just saying who they are, they turned it into a song: "We're Risk", that Evan screamed and then proceeded to attack us up front. He ran full speed, and due to his low center of gravity as opposed to mine up high he was able to push me against the wall...or where I thought the wall was. There was actually a closet there, door open, that I fell all the way into, smashing my shin on something on the way down, dented bones now on the left to mirror those on the right that I got about a decade ago when I slipped and hit my shin on a steel trailer hitch. I immediately got up and tackled Evan against the opposite wall, crushing others in the process, and then throwing him back up front in time for "Do Drugs". I was thinking of saying how it's refreshing to not hear a straight edge message, but grindcore shows and alcoholism/pot-smoking seem to go hand-in-hand, though Risk is pretty far from a gc band. They tore through their last 3 songs, the highlight probably being Evan pointing at people individually while singing "YOU! YOU'RE STILL IN MY HEAD!" followed by stomp-moshing, then closing with their Repos cover. First show success. Though Evan mentioned afterward: "I don't think these people like hardcore." They have a show coming up on the 27th @ Albion House (Black and Blue debuts), and it's bound to be far more destructive. Come get your face knocked off of your face.
We then disassembled the equipment and loaded the van back up, put everything in a nice order, tarped it and went and got some tacos at La Cocina, which I persuaded Varg into buying me. We returned filled with some damn good tacos al pastor, but we had missed the next band, so we stood out back, smoking and drinking NON-ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES. Hercules from Omaha played next. Having never heard them, I wasn't expecting anything, good or bad, but they really tore it up. Their music would shift between fast screaming over blastbeats into weird 70's arena rock style guitar riffed breakdowns, which I was surprisingly enthused over. That's one of the greatest things about coming to these sorts of low-profile house shows: you're almost always bound to discover for yourself a really great obscure band. Would totally see this band again.
Scare Quotes played after them. The super fast grind wasn't bad, but what was really great was being told how horrible I am in this world for being a straight white male. I was just overpowered and moved by own guilt. But seriously, I totally appreciate your stance, but telling a bunch of hardcore kids about LGBT equality is preaching to the choir. Have you seen some of the haircuts here? These kids don't care. "America fucking rules!"
We spent the next 40 minutes or so in the back alley, smoking (tobacco), drinking (root beer) and (apple juice). Ya know, I never thought I'd be in favor of banning any sort of drink, but holy shit does 4Loko make people obnoxious as fuck. Not that it bothered me; I thought it pretty humorous to watch dudes scream at each other while they're standing face-to-face and have it be a friendly conversation. Whatever band was next we missed as we stood out in the cold, sharing acid and mushroom stories with certain members of Socially Retarded and some strangers.
At some point we were back downstairs while Retarded was setting up, taking up a lot of extra space with Aleks' monstrous case of effects pedals. It seemed to take forever for them to actually get situated, all the while feedback was dreadfully humming throughout the narrow basement, creating that aura of tension, and impending disaster. What followed could only be described as "disastrous", but in the best possible way. I've seen SR 8 or 9 times now and I've never seen such belligerence from the band. It was absolute mayhem in that basement with the most senseless, ignorant moshing I may have ever seen. Jimmy was jumping off the bass drum, hitting unsuspecting fools with his guitar (not on purpose) all the while getting clobbered by waves of drunken goons. It appeared people were trying to hug or strangle Varg from behind. At one point, Aleks' entire case fell off its stand while still producing warped electronic tones and him standing there with a drunken smile, an effects pedal in one hand and his middle finger up on the other. The movement of the crowd was chaotic with people jumping and falling left and right. This one dude was on the floor and as I went to pick him up, he began purposefully convulsing, kicking his feet all around, "seizure mosh" I guess. Jimmy again mounted the bass drum only to slip and bring down a couple cymbals before jumping back up and smashing back into us. I recall him raising the guitar up and pressing it against the ceiling in a sort of triumphant pose while guttural noises erupted from the amplifiers pressing towards their threshold. Someone jumped on my back at one point (still not sure who) and we two-man moshed for a good 15 seconds through the maniacal crowd. I don't think I've ever been so enamored with being a mindless mutant among many others, having a great time at all our expenses. And as far as I could tell, no one got hurt at all. As their set ended and I thought the mania would cease, the singer Mitch turned around and charged me. Figuring I'd just go with it we almost made it to the very back taking out bystanders and throwing each other around like idiots. These guys have had some memorable performances, but they really raised the bar with this one.
We returned to the cheese factory around midnight or so to load everything back down in the basement, have a celebratory PBR, and eat some unbelievably good cheese: white cheddar and garlic dill cheese curds, basil colby, smoked string cheese, and what I've now found to be the greatest cheese ever, 8 year old Extra Sharp Cheddar. It just crumbled apart when pressure was applied, and I tried to eat as much of it as I could. It's kind of strange in a way, eating food that was formed when I was a sophomore in high school, but I didn't care, for its savory goodness far exceeds any sense of rationality or moderation. Beer and cheese is how every Risk show should end.
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