Thursday –

Profferin' a well designed set-list that encompassed Crust, Death (both old skool and broootal) and Grindcore (obviously), the DJ Dejvy Intro Show had the weekend off to a rippin' start, givin' all present a clear idea of the kind o' musical fodder that'd be forced into their gapin' faces over the next two days. Folk all around were already busy emptying cups and bottles of intoxicatin' refreshment into themselves whilst the tunes spun, a few even strayin' to the stage area for a silly dance.

Their performance last year left me a mite jaded and hankerin' after much more steel hook insanity, so I was hopin' to be left wincin' and shudderin' throughout the double Hellshow feature this time around. Unfortunately, I ended up cringin' and gigglin' through the first act. Comical cane spanking?! Amusin' at first, but a good forty-five mins elapsed before much else

happened, and even then it was just a short strap-on sodomy sequence with short strap-ons. Don't get me wrong, I like to observe acts of bummin' as much as the next man, but that was too little, too late for this reviewer. Their soundtrack on the other hand, was very good; usin' Opera, Drum ‘n' Bass, Acid Techno and Industrial Metal as a backdrop for these frivolous acts.

Next, the Macabre Minstrels made a highly appropriate appearance with a set of fully acoustic, campfire-style songs; rich and resonant vocals tellin' us whimsical scary stories over lots of relaxin' guitar made for a highly agreeable set. My personal favourite was ‘The Cat Came Back', but the entire strummin' session was replete with very pleasant ditties indeed. The set was a bit too long for me though, especially considerin' the lengthy set-slot allocated to them the day after next, when they were due to appear as Macabre proper.

Act II of the Hell Show was better than the first in that it featured the bit everyone was surely itchin' to see: hooks ‘n' suspension! After watchin' the one guy strung up and swung about the place for a while, which was good, but no Hellraiser, I decided it was time to go buy t-shirts, drink more etc. Apparently, I missed out on further, more extreme use of hooks, some of which were assigned to tender areas of the leg! Overall, what I did see was at best, average.

Friday -

It's lunchtime, most folk present have begun liquor enquaffment, some already fallin' asleep into their beverages, so an injection of Brootal adrenaline containin' revitalizin' blast and soothin' grooves is just the ticket! Local outfit Poppy Seed Grinder deliver the dose via some rather bouncy Brutal Death/Grind, minglin' Dyin' Fetus and later Cannibal Corpse, removin' the overt complexities from each then addin' supplementary slamulence a la Soils of Fate, sounding overall a bit similar to fellow Czech act Smashed Face. Very fun opener.

I didn't realize at the time, but apparently Rubufaso Mukufo is a side project of Cerebral Turbulency members, and their set was one of total Goregrind mayhem, with enough boomin' grooves and infectious vox to keep things together. Those disappointed with the bands recent outings, which turned out to be intrepid expeditions into Nu Metal, would undoubtedly've found much comfort here, seein' as it has far more in common with Regurgitate and pre-‘In Advancing…' LDOH stuff, and often hearkens back to early CT stuff, summonin' the catchiness of stuff like good ol' ‘As Gravy'!

With the sun makin' my temples burn like too much whiskey, it was time to find a shady spot from which to observe the Jesus Crost set. Squintin' through silly shades, I could see two men onstage with a guitar and a drumkit, beatin' the poor instruments into submission until they emitted a hideous, fuzz-drenched clankin' sound, the red-hot racket makin' unlistenable yet perfectly appropriate background noise to a warm afternoon tryin' to relax on the grass while pourin' ale into oneself, just like listenin' to a lawnmower comin' from a neighbour's garden. Tuneless, relentless and right in your ears.

Poppin' in from next door for a cup of tea, Ass to Mouth turned up next, with a concretous set of Polish Brutal Death/Grind. With writhin', scum-caked riffage, compellin', blast-heaped drumwork and an extremely porcine vokill flurry, the songs usually swapped between high-speed clattery, rollin' breaks and satisfyin' catchiness, with a few unexpected, mildly innovative progressions thrown in. A nice hybrid of Dutch Goregrind and US Brutal Death styles, plus a coatin' of UK Crust made for an enjoyable twenty mins.

Time for something a bit more raucous, and Keitzer delivered the Grindcore goods with aplomb! Shrill, rapidly performed riffs backed by blastin' that reduced my cranium to mere consommé, with many red-raw roars and shredded-throat shrieks for vox. Pullin' all kinds o' grindin' tricks from out the tin with an extremely bold and convincin' delivery, they came across as a watertight combination o' old and new Grind and Power Violence, so there was plenty of Nasum, a fair bit o' Dropdead, a splash o' Skitsystem, a little bit o' Splitter, some Yacopsae and maybe a bit o' Wozcjech in there as well.

An act of incredible fecundity, namely French Goregrind outfit Pulmonary Fibrosis, were up next, playin' a selection of crunchy tunes taken from their thirty releases. With a fair bit of it not soundin' entirely dissimilar to Rubufaso Mufuko from earlier, the set sloshed together old RGTE and LDOH, but with parts of it bein' fed thru an Agathocles mincer.

Fucksaw are a lot o' fun on record, so I was lookin' forward to seein' US Cyber Porngrind duo live, despite their incredibly crap masks. I must say the thing started off soundin' a bit scruffy and sloppy; the drum-prog sounded ok of course, but the guitarwork was a bit haphazard, even for a guy who's also in drunken guttersluts Screaming Afterbirth, and the other electronic elements seemed absent from the sound altogether. Things improved very soon though, what with a hilarious rendition of ‘Confessions of an Anal Whore', followed by a guest vox slot from Dente Rompeprop! Overall, this was good to average to flimsy, and should've been replaced with Noxious Coitus.

Although I was lookin' forward to seein' Disturbance Project again, I ended up missin' them one way or another due to vegan-grub gob-enstuffment, dipsomaniacal jollification or merch-browsin', but got back in time to watch local lads Cerebral Turbulency put in a solid, worthwhile set, full of groovy-arsed fuzz, biscuit-tin snare ting-a-ling and nice, diverse vox. Even those more traditionalist fans of CT (and Czechgrind in particular) dubious about the set bein' full o' naughty early-noughties Mallcore moments ought to have been at least titillated by this nice, rounded set.

Further Crust. Local veterans Malignant Tumour made their fourth OEF appearance next, and rattled along agreeably with half an hour of Crust-coated chaos which, like any

half-decent greasy-spoon breakfast, had everything you'd expect on the plate. Back in the day, they used to play decay-caked Goregrind with pathological themes and aesthetics, but these days they're all about the Crust; similar soundin' riffs swagger all over the place alongside roarin' vokill-blaze that huffs right into your ears, accompanied by a crustulated percussive drubbin'! Good fun.

MT's set complete, Tokyo four-piece Flagitious Idiosyncrasy in the Dilapidation came out and proceeded to wipe the stage-floor with them. An explosive set of unstoppable Grind, all buzzsaw riffin' and laryngeal shred-vox nailed together by white-hot bass squelch and enormous blastwork, with a sound that combines total Grindcore enrippment with nice retro bits of Crossover Thrash throwback, along with a few handfuls o' Crust and a bit o' Power Violence. The set coincided with the release of their self titled album on Bizarre Leprous Productions, so I'm sure this performance helped them shift numerous copies. They might look sweet, but they'll smash your tympanic membranes off! Very good indeed.

Despite a very large appetite for live bands at the time, my hankerin' for food, alcohol and banter with friends was much more voracious, thus your reviewer ended up missin' the Excrementory Grindfuckers set, so my apologies to the band for that. I caught a sizeable section of the Mesrine appearance though, and derived plenty of enjoyment from their serial killer besotted Grind work. With more than twenty five releases to their name, which borrows the moniker of their favourite French murderer, the band have obviously developed their grindin' muscles and honed their hectic songcraft over the past decade, allowin' me to enjoy hefty clumps of riff-fuzz, extremely tight blast and a face-maimin' vokill range.

In 2006, I distinctly remember bein' bowled over to the point of ravellin' my beslackened jaw up off of the floor after the Splitter set at OEF, but since then, they've undergone a number of stylistic modifications with their second disc, which built upon their ferocious Grind framework with liltin' progressions, melodic sections and a sprinklin' of twinkly bits. Some folk may be of the opinion that these developments have given them more of a Metalcore (eeek!) edge, but some may find that the polished gleam of certain song sections works in their favour, and makes the more frenetic bits even more damaging. A nice set.

After that, it was time for the four-way fun package I'd been lookin' forward to all day; Putrid Pile, CBT, RGTE and AG, so I doddered intoxicatedly over to a pleasant spot in the centre of the front row. The man LaCanne strolled out in order that I could observe the Putrid Pile set in the shadow of his testicles, and armed only with a guitar, drum tracks, a diaphragm and a larnynx, unleashed an inescapable Brutal Death/Grind attack! Extremely well calculated guitarwork allowed many whirly squirls of malevolent power-strummin' to burrow into my face afore lobbin' me into an enormous, judderin' slam-crusher at exactly the right moment, the act consummately narrated with the two-pronged vokill assault of horripilatin' guttural beef and electrified glottal squawks. Profferin' plenty o' cuts from both his releases, the set was as full ‘n' comprehensive as it was tight ‘n' powerful, and despite becomin' a wee bit bogged down in structural two-dimensionality towards the end, it was a winnin' performance.

Oh my. Nothin' could've prepared me for the pair of luminaries that followed. Since my ears first became firmly ensconced in the sub-genre, I daresay no two Goregrind acts have caused such a furious excitement within them than that provided by German Pornogrind legends Cock and Ball Torture and Swedish Gore-gods Regurgitate, and their OEF live sets served to magnify this auditory engorgement many times over. It was time to receive a nice floggin', so after exitin' the pit in order to imbibe hop-based refreshment, it was time to politely shove and jostle my way back to my optimal journalistic viewpoint in the front row. Once CBT arrived onstage, the sky began dischargin' great gobs of heavy cloudspurt, turnin' those assembled into a smelly mess of hair, rain, sweat, sludge and disenrobed genitals. Despite becomin' disenchanted with the band after the ‘Egoleech' washout, I'm of course still enormously keen on the rest of their catalogue of perversions, and as far as I could tell with my head buried beneath muddy boots and soggy armpits, the bulk of the set-list was taken from the bulldozer bondage bible ‘Opussy' and the timeless bawdy romp, ‘Sadochismo', which was nice. To this reviewer, Cock and Ball Torture are the premium Pornogrind band, extrudin' voluminous sticky arcs of the lewdest possible grooves and foulest pitchshifted vox, all with strictly pornographic themes, to form their unmistakable sound and texture, so I was more than pleased to receive this beatin'. An immaculate expression of musical sadomasochism.

Next arrived an act from whom the previous (and innumerable others) undoubtedly derived much inspiration; none other than Scandinavian Goregrind dignitaries, Regurgitate! Although I resembled a bashed-in, dog-eared crumple-heap, I thought it best to stay put and enjoy the roarin' gore guitarwork, blastulent skull enmushment and putrid vox from at close range. Openin' with faultless cover version of the openin' song that opened up this whole cavernous musical wound in the first place, namely vintage ‘Reek…' instrumental ‘Genital Grinder', the band treated us to almost an hour of ecstatic splatter! Many will concur that the band arose purely from the early Carcass canker, but others'll maintain that the inception of RGTE cultivated a fresh swarmin' virus within the genre, with the horrid debut ‘Effortless Regurgitation…' bein' the next phase of Goregrind putrefaction, the cadaver then explodin' with plump larvae on back-catalogue high-point ‘Carnivorous Erection' Of course, many shunned them when they turned into something of a mini-Nasum (which was fine with me anyway) on ‘Deviant', but they made a positively putrid return to form with ‘Sickenin' Bliss', and, despite an indistinct sound, this live set proved that the band still have more than enough fire in their suppurated stomachs to channel the septaecemic spirit of Goregrind, and they play this filth right from their festerin' cardiac organs! Very, very good indeed.

Though reduced to a tattered, shite-faced scarecrow, I decided it'd be silly to leave when Mincecore pioneers Agathocles were just about to appear, especially given that they're one of the first Grindcore bands that I became acquainted with back when I was smaller, sucked in right away as soon as I heard their ‘Theatric Symbolisation of Life' release, so I stayed for fifty mins of Belgian Mince (I think some poetry readings of the kind that featured heavily upon that release would've gone down very poignantly, but alas, none surfaced). Their set was a veritable pie-shop of Crust-caked riffs and pipin' hot vox, all sealed together by solid rumble ‘n' smash percussion, and it made for extremely satisfyin' entertainment. What with tens of thousands of releases to their name (a moniker for which everyone seems to have their own pronunciation), coupled with rather a muddified live sound, it was difficult to identify exactly what tune was bein' played, but overall the performance was like a hulkin' Grindcore plough (with all Minced-up Crusty bits stuck in its grille). AG is an (un)musical machine that's been rumblin' along for over two decades, of which I stumbled around afront, decorously, and thoroughly enjoyed bein' pulverized!

A trip to back to the hotel to bathe a nasty cut sustained durin' one of several badly timed stage dives resulted in seein' only about ninety seconds of the Demonical slot, which was a shame, because it seems I missed out on some extremely punchy yet indubitably portentous Swedish Death Metal. Bah!

What with the sordidity centres of psyche havin' undergone considerable disengorgment since the end of the CBT set, I was overjoyed at the appearance of sadistic twat-

faces, Isacaarum! Although the vox were much too low in the mix to convey the same tangible venom as on record, the set was still a highly gratifyin' affair. Yes, there's groove aplenty, but there's a lot more to Isacaarum than just poundin' BDSM-club chuggin', ‘cos their material involves classick Death Metal, older Grind/Gore and also a kind of Crust infused Black Metal edge. A bit like old Carcass, filtered thru Haemorrhage and Exhumed, along with the most callous bits of more recent Pungent Stench, a smudge of Impaled Nazarene, and bits of how Waco Jesus would sound if they went all creative on us, everything tightly bound inside bondage-gore themes. Very nice indeed.

Next, Speck came on and made a mathematical racket, testin' the sanity of the remainin' punters with their twangly, scratch-head Grindcore equations. Played loosely and leisurelyly, their set involved a lot of deft time changes and textural shifts, resultin' in technical segments of varyin' timbre, arranged in unpredictable sequences in order to disorientate us with full-on Grindcore fury, liltin' bits of fluid, bass-driven Funk, stammerin', Be-bop styled Jazzgrind excursions, mind-maulin' Mathcore madness and lots of juddery stops ‘n' starts. I was reminded of something like Virulence once or twice, maybe. Very good.

Androphagous, which I think features members of Keitzer from earlier, rounded off the first day very well with some face-shearin' Grindcore, with a distinct old skool sound, but streamlined by means of a faster, more defined delivery. The set was similar to Keitzer in many ways, what with their furious performance and abundant conviction, except Andropagous take further influence from the early Earache catalogue, droppin' any sub-sub-genre hoppin' in favour of a more traditional Grind approach, but retainin' the same uncompromising intensity in their execution.

Last off, an apparently unscheduled appearance from Sakatat, a Turkish band who played utterly rippin' Grind in an overtly old skool style, also clearly inspired by dusty ol' Hardcore and Thrash. Lively and energetic, their stuff borrowed bits of the early Earache catalogue like Heresy, Spazztic Blurr and Napalm Death (obviously) and classick Thrashcore like Electro Hippies and SOB, combinin' them with plenty of AG. A nice end to the evenin'.

A superb day.

Saturday -

I arrived on time to see Death Toll 80k, but missed their set because I was at the first aid tent receivin' treatment for the injury I sustained durin' CBT or RGTE last night. Many thanks to the first aid personnel! After a brief rest and a small drink, I only caught a bit of the set by local escapees Demented Retarded, and it seemed like I'd missed out on some funny, groove-infused Gore. It was ok though, because Nydoom was next.

Since the turn of the millennium, one Dutch degenerate has been lurkin' about in the Goregrind underground, puttin' out horrid releases and makin' shit-eatin'-grin sportin' appearances on 90-way split releases with other repulsive bands, even sharin' a split CD with Hogtied on a short-run CD-r release on your reviewer's own cack label, Traumatized Records. And here he is!! It's Anal Penetration of course, and Nydoom's turn to make his presence felt; he did so, rightly so, by means of a fuzz-coated, gore-splattered guitar tone, hideously synthetic yet nonetheless crushin' drum-prog and a thoroughly frazzled larynx! One man Porno/Goregrind with sharp, scythin' riffs fuelled by piled-up blast, another winnin' one-man appearance!

Apparently takin' their name from the classick Marvel Comics super-villain, Dr. Doom took to the stage next, with a blustery, blast-filled sound that wrapped up its Grindcore heart with swathes of both Crust and Hardcore Punk, occasionally smotherin' it with Sludge. I had to make a trip to Trutnov for various supplies, so I missed the rest of this, and unfortunately Rectal Smegma too, whose lunchtime set I was lookin' forward to all mornin'. I bought a Rectal Smegma pug t-shirt later on to make up for it though.

I saw some of Pyorrhoea, who, bein' named after something as commonplace as a gum disease, turned out to be fairly commonplace Death/Grind, but did manage to keep things movin' along fluidly with plenty of adrenalized rhythmic drive, shiftin' adroitly from ominous Death Metal riff-whirr to catchy, gig-friendly Grind uplift, featurin' good solid vox with a satisfyin' range. Add to that the kind of wobblin' bass rumble that presses on your ears, all hammered into place by crushin' percussion, full o' noggin-rattlin' blasts and flamboyant fills. Pleasing.

Gonorrhoea Pussy were hilarious! They played a very bouncy, chugtastic brand of Pornogrind in a sleazy and cheezy style, with hulkin' syncopated riffs churnin' up blunt rhythmic patterns with simplistic kit work underneath, sprayed with hideous, mic-slobberin' vokill pitchshift. This was essentially a re-enjigglement of bondage-gore plough-fest ‘Sadochismo' by Cock and Ball Torture, only with less emphasis on flowin' mid-paced groove, and more upon chunky, segmented riffs containin' only a few palm muted notes per measure, thus causin' the thing to resemble Brutal Slammin' Porno Nu Metal; a train-wreck of Porngrind, Metalcore, Brutal Death and Spookycore, not entirely dissimilar to something like Smallpox Aroma, only chuggier and less chaotic. The audio accident enmangled some chopped up discarded bits of CBT, Hatebreed, Jungle Rot and Coal Chamber, to make silly, funny music that you can throw away like a besoiled tissue.

Portuguese Porno/Goregrind act Namek came next, who played something in a similar spirit to that of the above, only with more Grind-nerve, broader songwritin' and a more

bludgeonin' overall sound. Sizable blocks of powerchug clanked around heavily afore givin' way to chrome-plated, blast-plastered chaos, often contrastin' their frequent steamrollin' gore-grooves with traditional, Crust-speckled Grind percussion.

After that, my friends/OEF ensmashment companions Reth, from England . Crikey, what's this shite they're playing? Painfully ‘now' soundin' Scenecore with plasticky slams and typical piglet vox, Reth are stylistically akin to such ear-friendly Deathcore stuff as Suicide Silence, or perhaps closer to UK scene brethren Annotations of an Autopsy. Plenty of brutal-kid appeasin', kung-fu incitin' bits of Wakin' the Cadaver and Guttural Engorgment as well, but with the sloppy delivery of Yorkshire-tarts Bring Me the Horizon, and, bizarrely, a rhythm section with some ludicrous Mudvayne meets Fieldy bass trappings and D-beat riddled drummin' similar to the most simplistic Anti Cimex stuff. The set was saved only by a guest vokill appearance by Rich of The Afternoon Gentlemen, Joe Pesci, Noxious Coitus, Rectal Valvotomy, Hit the Showers, Spasticated Razor Masturbator, Oliver Reed, Skull of Shit, Fuck That, Nam K'aps, Reason of Loneliness, Stigma, Scumbastard, Munt Victim, Embalmed, Violet, Once I Tried, Eborsisk, Meshapitated , Spit Vermin, Then the Rains Came and Stinking Fuck fame. Hohoho, ONLY JOKIN'!!!!!!!! In actual fact, this was a very nice set of gleamin', harpoon-like Technical Brutal Death/Grind. They sound nothing like any o' that. Reth contained whirly, intricate dual guitars, molten low-end twangle-mangle, diverse vox of extreme ferocity and an extravagant smorgasbord of very deft drumwork, woven into some seriously contortuplicated structures, many of which resulted in much scratch-head slam-denial and fun disorientation. These tea drinkin' bastards undoubtedly mopped up many a new listener this aft!

Next, Discarga from Brazil played some explosive Hardcore Punk/Crossover Thrash. Vigorous, forceful and convincin', their material was full of catchy, fuzz-soaked guitars and rampant percussion, coated in corrosive vox. Their style was clearly aligned with the kind o' good ol' Hardcore Punk that also served as highly influential proto-Grind stuff, so there was quite a bit of Septic Death, Heresy, Siege and Larm flyin' about the place. An engagin' show. After that, I missed Blood I Bleed due to takin' far too long to select my next t-shirt haul, which was upsettin' later when I discovered the band was formed from the ashes of ragin' grinders, My Mind's Mine! Bah!

Today's first pure Death Metal outfit arrived next, namely Dead Beyond Buried from London, with a set of robust and crushin' yet sinuous and flowin' tunes, the structure and style of which bein' rooted firmly within that old skool US Death Metal plantin' ground, the Floridian allotment in particular, but also weavin' their way into the New York patch as well. Lots o' Morbid Angel, Deicide and maybe Monstrosity, plus much Suffo and some Immolation too; plenty to keep any old skool Death Metal fan more than pleased whilst they sip upon ale.

After that, a bit more Crossover this time courtesy of Californian five-piece Voetsek, who played forthright and in yer face Thrash, raucously and at high speeds, liberally spatterin' the thing with streams of Punkish mucus along the way. Surgin', fuzzy riffs over very rugged, tightly performed percussive clatter, the thrashin' mass dragged firmly together by some very bumptious and forceful vokills that did very well to smash home the message of each number. Several folk either side of me commented on their similiarites to recent Municipal Waste stuff, but I think perhaps there was also a bit of Cryptic Slaughter, plus SOB, along with Black Flag, and maybe some of the Accused and or something too. Nice stuff.

Bloody Phoenix didn't appear after all; apparently their drummer was injured in a freak firework accident, so local Fastcore outfit Lahar played instead. Havin' become enmiffed by the cancellation of Bloody Phoenix, I'd already started wanderin' off somewhere before their set, but what I heard was furious, fuzzy and played very quickly indeed.

Of course, I was back in time for the German Pornogrind pioneers who followed. Havin' had one-time Pornogrind saviours Cock and Ball Torture put on quite a show for us the previous evenin', I thought it highly appropriate that we receive another fix of filth the followin' evenin', only this time administered by old skool Pornogoregrind trio, Dead!! (Go read the DC intie for a recent conversation with Dany Dead). The set was nice ‘n' comprehensive, also featurin' some stuff from the very recent split with Spanish Goregrind veterans, Haemorrhage. However, excruciatingly, their performance was nowhere near as enjoyable as I was expectin' it to be! Before I go on, I must stress that this had nothin' to do with the band whatsoever! They ejaculated those tunes with tangible vim and vigour, poundin' their groove-infused guitars into submission and secretin' some seriously sleazy vox, but the live sound ruined everything! The representation was so muggy and distant, that I often found myself chattin' to a friend and forgettin' that the band was even performin'! Frustratin' to say the least!

Next, time for a bout of bashment from Czech Grindcore five-piece, Gride! I won't refer to them as Czechgrind, ‘cos they don't have hulkin' Gore-grooves, a biscuit-tin lid snare or preposterous porcine vokills, nor have they recently gone a-dippin' their toes in the stagnant ol' Nu Metal pool of yesteryear. Instead, they play a much more traditional form of Grind, takin' considerable influence from the various movements that arose prior to and alongside the style, resultin' in a choice blend of Hardcore Punk, Crossover and Power Violence. Lots of fun on disc, but I'm afraid their stuff didn't come across quite so well here, and didn't seem to be performed at the same breakneck speeds as on their records, plus they were subjected to a similarly lukewarm live sound job, thus I ended up strugglin' to get into their set throughout. Gah!

Disenchanted by this turn of events, I repaired to the hotel for a short while, but fannied about far too much and ended up completely absent from a chunk of the proceedings, which was a shame, ‘cos I not only overlooked some apparently quite good French Death/Grind from Benighted, but also missed the entire Entrails Massacre set, a classick German Goregrind band who I've wanted to see for years! Aaaaargh!

I caught a good batch o' tunes by Pisschrist, whose a punchy sound signaled an improvement in the live sound dept, thus allowin' them to crush in the heads of punters with

some classick basement-squat-style D-Beat/Hardcore Punk. ‘Cos it contains piles o' rowdy riffs gettin' booted about the place by a boisterous kit-attack then gnashed to bits by some rather hoarse vox, their stuff combines vintage British stuff like Discharge (of course) and the Varukers, with old Swedish faves like Anti-Cimex, Disfear and Totalitar.

Towards the end of that, it was time to begin an extended period of goulash/ale consumption with friends, so I missed Le Scrawl, which I regretted, seeing as I later discovered they play a highly charismatic brand of Jazzgrind! I watched fun Finnish veterans Impaled Nazarene though, who were highly entertainin'. Essentially a Finnish Black Metal outfit with a very prominent sense of humour, and they've been takin' the piss for years! Of course, I could feel the frostbitten texture and black-ice style, but I was warmed up a treat by fuzzy Thrash quilts and many cups of steamin' Crust Punk, all of which added much colour and vibrancy to the tatty Black Metal blueprint. ‘Cos it was the first thing I ever heard by them, ‘Suomi Finland Perkele' is one of my favourites, so I was happy to hear a cut from that, but I think their set clogged up a bit toward they end and became a bit indistinct despite the variety within their compositions. Other than that, very good!

Over an hour of Murder Metal entertainment followed, as legendary splatter trio Macabre entered the stage, keepin' us all in high spirits thru their unmistakable, self classified brand of Death Metal/Goregrind, their set actin' as an exuberant serial-killer celebration, the tunes payin' homage to the mass murderers that fascinate them so. Despite bein' as kitsch, catchy and whimsical as this kind o' Death/Grind can be, with its comical vokill styles, nursery rhyme hooks and oft hilarious lyrics, their music still came across as robust, weighty and crushin'! Death, Grind and Thrash riffs slashed and smashed against each to highly infectious effect, whilst a two-gobbed vox monster slobbered rough gutturals and ridiculous squealy falsettos all over the place, with a clear, poundin' live sound that allowed the whole thing to scythe through muchly. The cover of Venom classick ‘Countess Bathory' was a nice surprise.

What with the Macabre set bein' of generous length, I thought it'd be appropriate to keep visitin' the backstage area bar and attempt to organize an interview or two. Dodderin' intoxicatedly about the place for a while, I soon found a nice table containin' Joe Pesci, Reth, Nicholas from Bones Brigade Records and other folk, but managed to conduct just a short interview at that time, with one Jim Reth:

Baz: Hello Jim. Have you enjoyed OE so far?

Jim: Wurgley burble sneep sneep, wurgley burble sneep!!

Baz: Cheers mate.

Jim: Put that in yer webzine!!

Baz: Shall do!

Infamous UK band Extreme Noise Terror were on next, so I went to watch some classick inebriated material bein' played. The OEF line-up featured much Crust this year, perhaps a smudge more than the past two, the culmination of which bein' this roarin', swaggerin' performance from from these Crusty Grind legends. Everything a keen listener could've wanted from them really: vintage riffage, formidable rhythm section and expert vox, wrenched out with a rampant delivery and larger-than-life stage presence. The sound seemed to have clouded over again, so it made some bits indistinct, but given that their style and delivery forms textures perfectly attuned to the merriment centres of the licqour-soaked human brain, the fuzzy live-sound hardly even mattered after a day of copious ale enguzzlement!

Another look backstage for an intie, and this time I managed to have a few words with none other than Dan Lilker [of Brutal Truth]! After some brief introductions, here's what we said:

Baz: I think we may as well do the interview here, I haven't prepared very well so this'll probably be more of a conversation.

DL: That's ok, d'you have a Dictophone or anything?

B: I'll just try to remember it all instead, some bits may be missin' and it may not end up in the right order, but it usually works! So, first of all, did you enjoy playin' Obscene Extreme last year? Were you happy with the set?

DL: Yeah, definitely, last year was a good show

B: Personally, I would've preferred just a few more songs from off of ‘Need to Control', or even better, if you had played the entire album as a set.

DL (Chucklin'): So you would've been chuffed with that?

B: Oh definitely, more chuffed even that Harris himself!

DL: Sorry, I couldn't resist it.

B: Nah not at all, I've actually been tryin' to inculcate it into conversations this weekend. Now, my next question might be a bit of a tricky one, but I'd like you to list for me every band or project that you've been involved with since your birth.

DL: Oh…You want that now?

B: Yes please. I don't mind if it's incomplete

DL: Ok, Nuclear Assault, Anthrax, SOD, Brutal Truth, Exit-13, Hemlock, Crucifist….

B: Extra Hot Sauce?

DL: Thanks! Yeah, Extra Hot Sauce, Holy Moses, Venemous Concept, The Ravenous…

B: Many thanks. I also wanted to ask you your opinions on Power Violence.

DL: Yeah I like all that stuff… Man is the Bastard, I like Spazz a lot too.

B: Classic bands indeed. I picked up a nice Lack of Interest shirt earlier. I'd also like to ask how come you chose the name Brutal Truth for that particular band.

DL: Well it started out as a pun, because we weren't writin' about desecrating graves like everyone else, and had a more socio-political approach that had our stuff come across as the brutal truth.

B: Ah, very good…I also wanted to ask about the ‘Smoke Grind Sleep' slogan.

DL: That was a collaboration between myself and our guitarist, ‘cos that was pretty much what we were doing at the time.

B: Do you smoke in celebration each mornin', or wait until after lunch?

DL: Whenever it's available!

B: Excellent! Well, I think it's time to go watch some more Extreme Noise Terror now, what are your plans for the rest of this evenin'?

DL: Drink more, talk to some people and hopefully smoke with guys like you and your buddy here (indicatin' Smith out of Afternoon Gents, Grotpeddler, Reth, LBW etc)

B: Good stuff! Cheers then, have a nice evenin' and many thanks for the interview!

DL: No problem, cheers!

Desecration: Cancelled! Aaaaaargh!!

I was much too twatted to watch the last three bands (my apologies to Alehammer, Abortion and Entropic Degrade Behind Pholegeny), so it was time to leave.

Certainly the best OEF I've been to so far! Many thanks to Curby and friends for this three day Grind binge!

- Personally attended, conducted and written by Baz

(OEF photos courtesy: OEF photographer Thomas Werr and Hannah Stevens)