Darkest Hour w/ Versus the Mirror, From a Second Story Window, and Misery Signals at The Habitat

It's 7:00 p.m. I'm in line to see Darkest Hour and an unholy host of metal-ish bands at the Habitat in downtown Kelowna, but it just doesn't seem like the right time for metal. Don't get me wrong, in my books it is always a good time for metal- but standing in line, half-drunk and coming down from a mid-afternoon high, happy rays of sunshine beaming down on a crowd of gaunt, scenester ragamuffins- the whole thing just didn't seem very metal. Then again, I seriously needed to use the bathroom, and what's more metal than bowel cramps and an excess of excrement?

A lack of communication with the promoters left me with a lack of a ticket, and the show was sold out so I had to wait until the opening act Versus the Mirror finished their set before I could file on in and find a good place to thrash about like a sweaty epileptic. The only thing I can remember about Versus the Mirror is thinking, "this is so meh-talcore", and then thinking how that wasn't clever at all, and probably shouldn't go in the review. Well, fuck you- metal isn't about being clever, it's about bowel-shuddering bass, Satan, long hair, and growling like the Cookie Monster.

From A Second Story Window knew what metal was all about, even if lead vocalist William Jackson looked like Anthony Kiedis in a Polo shirt. Their shotgun blast-beats and grinding guitar assualt left many a jaw dropped, but their sharp turns in time signatures kept the casual onlookers from really movin'. After a short break and a quick trip outside to get some air, Misery Signals were set to take the stage. I’m not going to deny that Misery Signals have a large, growing fan-base, and they certainly threw the crowd into a frenzy, but I couldn't help but think how thunderously bland they were. I couldn't have cared less though, as no more than a half-hour later they were moving their gear and making room for Darkest Hour. Darkest Hour left my body destroyed. I remember very little of their set other than the total euphoric feeling one gets while being utterly floored by a wall of pummelling drums, guitars, bass, and vocals- oh, and they came back for an encore as their drummer danced in his underwear. I also remember shouting "DRUM SOLO!" I woke up the next morning a total wreck; feedback ringing in my ears, and the worst bangover I've ever had in my life.

Thank you Darkest Hour.