Tuesday 1 March 2011

Gig review: Black Label Society @ Hammersmith Apollo - 21/02/11

As even the most avid fan will testify, Black Label Society is hardly a euphemism for passivity. In fact, it's the very opposite. Well, let's face it: any quartet of growling males that shares its name with Canada's most famous fermented export, and a 'mutant' outlaw bicycle club, doesn't exactly bring radical Puritanism to mind. Black is the colour. Bellicose is the game.

But let's take a step back for a moment. Thinking about it, Zakk Wylde's not done too badly for himself. His heavy offspring has been going from strength to strength since 1998; with eight studio albums, three compilations (including 2010's 'Berzerkus Tour Sampler'), one live album and an EP to its name, Wylde has been nurturing the distinctive sound of his Black Label Society to the call of thousands of religious "Berserkers" long and hard enough for it to reach its thirteenth year. The result, as the official BLS website bio proclaims, is "a heavy metal institution true to his vision of uncompromising, unfiltered and unrestrained rock and roll": one which, as Zakk himself tells Adrian Bromley of chroniclesofchaos.com, he doesn't want to "get lumped in with fuckin' nu-metal. We play IRON!" ...And all this after his first brief-lived ensemble Pride & Glory, and solo acoustic album 'Book of Shadows'. Not bad for a bloke who was once hired from his job at a New Jersey gas station by rock's cheapest bargain... cough... Ozzy Osbourne. But on The Label fight. To Hammersmith. With 2010's knuckleduster, 'Order of the Black', still a solid and reliable horseback. It's time to get the leather on, the groove into gear, and witness the survival of the fittest.

British unsigned Southern-style metallers Godsized are supporting - a "focussed powerhouse of a band", declares their MySpace page, and they strike a well-chosen spark for BLS to stretch to full-blown conflagration. A perfect fit. But the engines are revving. The beer is flowing. And BLACK LABEL SOCIETY (9/10) explode into life to huff, and puff, and blow your house down. The hairiest Gods of Thunder you ever did see. They waste no time in ripping into 1999's 'Sonic Brew' cut, 'The Beginning... At Last'. And in light of Zakk's recent departure from the musical juggernaut of his mentor, Osbourne, as well as his success in remaining sober since  mid-2009 (an issue well-chronicled), there may be some poignancy in the title that extends beyond the song itself, or even this evening's set as a whole.

Having been (slightly) overshadowed by Heaven and Hell's tribute to Ronnie James Dio, and their final gig under the H & H band-name moniker at High Voltage Festival 2010, it's no surprise that BLS are taking no prisoners musically tonight. The infamous bass-y, chunky grooves are out in force: smoking with drive, and saturated in booze. The Wylde man is determined to live up to his name, alright. Stalking the stage, with trademark Gibson Les Paul Custom in hand, and a bowler hat atop his great blonde mane, he's the lion in his den: untamed, pissed off, and determined to prove a point to the world. His technical trademark of picking every note in his solos remains unblemished, and as you might expect, he shreds like such a demon, even the ears of his wah-pedal are bleeding. But oh, doesn't he know it...

Nevertheless, they pull out a cracking set list offering gems spanning their career, and their worshippers in the pit can't get enough of it. 'Mafia' classics "What's In You" and "Suicide Messiah" are tremendous; 'Order of the Black' firecrackers "Crazy Horse" and "Overlord" blend the old and the new, with not a pinch-harmonic out of place. But the undoubted highlight for most tonight is the stunning "In This River" – complete with a commemorative nod to everyone's favourite guitar hero, the late Dimebag Darrell. Wylde's talent as a pianist, both practically and compositionally, is considerable, and greatly overlooked in favour of his lightening fret-work. But it's his feeling in performance which really compels, and exposed and incongruous lies the emotional core within their signature primal "brewtality". Magnificent.

So, on the sonic front, it seems BLS' solder of the groove of blues to the crunch of metal still roars its way to our souls. To deadly effect. But of course, bad boys come with a bad reputation. Famed for their belligerence as much as their beards, their alpha-male arrogance towards authority has gotten them into more than a few scrapes in their time. They were the subject of media Chinese Whispers, after the alleged involvement of their entourage and followers in that infamous sabotaging of Iron Maiden's set, during Ozzfest festival in 2005... although no statement has ever been issued directly by the gate-keepers, so no-one really knows for certain. In conciliation of both BLS and Maiden fans, Ozzfest's scene was a mosaic of factors, to say the least. Yes Bruce Dickinson, it's testing the water to bad-mouth your employers. When they're throwing you $185,000 a night. But more prevalently, when you put a price on your integrity, Sharon O, you can't afford to then take the moral high-ground. Especially when juvenility is your middle name...

There was, however, the notorious, logo-sharing 'patches' episode between The Label and biker gang 'Satan's Slaves Motorcycle Club', which erupted during the same year, in Manchester. But enough admonition for now. Aren't we all suckers for a bit of drama? After all, would BLS properly represent the macho, the mean and the menacing without a tiny bit of mischief...?

Speaking of the Y chromosome, it's worth pointing out that this evening should be a complete sausage-fest. Those of you unfamiliar with the term: a boy's night out. It's not that BLS are particularly sexist; they're just seeping with such potent masculinity, you'd think they might frighten a proportionate amount of ladies away. Their model of testosterone is more Royal Rumble than Romeo and Juliet. Yet there's a surprising number of females around to speak of, and I don't feel out of place as one of them. Because what's evident tonight is that Black Label Society aren't about how many muscles you have, but how much heart. They tap into a tribalism and unity of character which overrides gender; it's a primal get-together for bearers of their mantra: Strength, Determination, Merciless, Forever. Or the iconic SDMF for short. And it's this eulogy of a weighty willpower and sturdy spine which makes their hot-blooded rebelliousness not only admirable, but in many instances, likeable.

Zakk and his gang of Lost Boys genuinely don't give a rat's arse. Their personas are everything we passionate, horn-throwing mortals wish we had the money, the status, and the balls to be. And yet the intensity, musical sensitivity and capability that BLS have to offer, allows them to bypass the rung of thuggish asininity on the ladder of credibility as artists – that is, if you're prepared to look deeper than the tepid waters of publicised naughty incidents, expect a little less than Othello-esque interview monologues from the frontman, and use your ears. Strength? Determination? Merciless? 2011 says yes. Black Label Society say Forever.

Review by Rhiannon Maiden. Copyright © Rhiannon Marley. All rights reserved.

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