Vancouver Metal Cruise 5: notes and photes

All photos for this post by Allan MacInnis

My first Metal Cruise last night. A fun experience! Wrote an advance article about it here, focusing on Egregore, the middle band of the night, who will soon be playing the Covenant festival at the Rickshaw. 

It was a very chill, pro-social event. I was mildly jealous of how many people I saw running into friends and how warmly and sincerely they hugged each other. Everyone knew everyone, it seemed, except me: I knew only Sonny Dean (of Little Guitar Army and Elf  fame). and Mayo and the members of the bands I'd interviewed (I'd also spoken to Space Queen a few months previous, which they did remember). None of the dozen familiar faces at the Invasives gig the night before, mentioned in my previous post, were present on board the Abitibi last night -- it's a different scene from the one I travel in, for the most part. But the social element of the experience was obviously a huge part of the draw for those that came. Metalheads are very welcoming and tolerant of each other; I felt a bit like a spy from the punk clubhouse next door, peeking through the slats, taking notes.

There are differences in style, demeanour and attitude from one subculture to the next, but not all of them were significant. In terms of fashion, there was everything from fishnet stockings with pentagrams sewn into them to metal-studded spiky dog collars to both homemade and storebought vests and jackets with dozens, maybe even hundreds of band names represented in some manner or other. I don't think I've seen the storebought variety at punk shows quite as often, where the vests have more of a sewed-the-patches-on-yourself variety, but punk is all around a bit lower-budget than metal, maybe?). A friend of Sonny's did a "you're never gonna guess where I got this" with me when I complimented his shirt, which was one such storebought multi-band extravaganza: turns out he was given it free by a guy at a show when he remarked in passing, "Nice shirt". The person wearing it stopped and said, "You like it, I'll give it to you, my girlfriend can't stand it." The guy then took the shirt off his back and handed it over! 

Indeed, I would not have guessed that. 

There was also a dude in an Orca costume, but seeing only black and white patches (and missing the fins) I at first wondered if he was dressed as a cow, which made no fucking sense at all. 

The T-shirts ranged from newly-minted AC/DC shirts to a somewhat out-of-place Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt to many Christophe Szpajdel-style black metal designs, mostly unreadable to me. There were plenty of familiar names represented, though: Sepultura, Cannibal Corpse, Bolt Thrower, System of a Down; almost everyone had a metal shirt on, making me regret that I hadn't taken the time to dig out my Auroch t-shirt. (I actually reviewed their debut in the Straight back in 2012). 

There was a sole girl sporting punk patches, including one for Clit .45, who I looked up later; I was disappointed to learn were not all women, as well as a t-shirt for Cheap Sex (also unknown to me). She definitely stood out as being someone I might have seen once at Funkys. 

It is hard to put one's finger on exactly where the boundaries between fashion choices lie, but another notable one, offered for what it is worth: I don't think many women on the punk scene would sport a hat as confrontational as one that read Black Out With Your Rack Out, for example. Eek! 

Another significant difference: there was a guy -- dude maybe a couple years older than I am, with long grey hair and a Bat Child t-shirt, and pretty drunk -- who had a very unusual moshing style, which was essentially careening in a stagger backwards around the pit, colliding into people, trusting that they would break his fall or propel him forward. It was kinda like that "I trust you" bonding exercise you see in team-building contexts, where you fall backwards into people's arms, except he was falling backwards into whatever unexpecting part of their body was in his path, and doing it multiple times per minute, with the aim not of being caught but of being bounced back forward so he could continue (and not crack his head on the deck). It was clear from the odd grimace he received that not everyone wanted to play that game, but most people still just smiled indulgently and pushed him back into the pit, and a couple of other people actively moshed theatrically back into him. He also clapped along to some songs, slightly outa synch with the band: what can ya do about a guy like that?

I think at a punk show the guy's behaviour would have drawn commentary from the others, some stiff-necked "cool it" or worse: punks are maybe a bit more inclined to play cop on others fun than headbangers? But if that happened last night, I did not see it.  You could see that the guy was having the time of his life, that however bonkers his pit manner was, he was a die-hard enthusiast (he even had the doorpeople stamp him for admission on his forehead instead of his inner wrist). So, uh, the more power to him, I guess: if he ever actually fell on his ass, it didn't happen while I was looking. 

I got to dance right up front for Space Queen, though, which, as Mayo predicted in the Straight preview https://www.straight.com/music/egregore-that-is-egregore-brings-its-evil-to-high-seas-for-vancouver-metal-cruise-5 for the cruise, was kind of the high point of the show, as we were departing Vancouver by daylight-- coming down False Creek from the Plaza of Nations, past various West End beaches and under the Granville and Burrard bridges -- spirits were highest. Shot some video, though didn't get the name of the track and can't find it on their bandcamp. Space Queen is more polished and confident since I first saw them a couple of years ago at Green Auto, and have multiple recordings under their belt, including one on vinyl that they had on their merch table. It was only the second time I'd seen them doing originals (my last experience of them, they were covering Black Sabbath stuff); it seemed like had moved a more towards Om territory, a bit more drony and Spartan than that dimly-remembered early set, though of course with abundant guitar solos. They ended their set with the drummer coming to front-of-stage to do a folky tune involving pirates that had a sea-shanty-like chorus, which they dedicated to Mayo, who was right up front in an Anciients shirt; he'd recently celebrated his birthday.  

As the sun started to set, things got darker musically, too, with Egregore leading us deeper into the serious "cult" of metal. I had enjoyed chatting with Egregore below decks and got them to sign their vinyl, but actually missed much of both of Egregore's and Mvlgrave's sets, as I had grown tired of being jostled, no longer had a good view--the space at the stern, where the stage was set, was kind of narrow; I didn't get an overhead shot of it, but you can extrapolate from the shot of the bow above. Plus I had gotten peckish: contrary to my own advance reports, there was food, in the form of mediocre Jamaican patties and superb potato salad (I tried a my-compliments-to-the-chef thing but the guy thought it might have come from Cotsco), which together were $8 a plate. I hung out in the green room, which was the ship's dining area, also being used for gear storage and merch tables; I could still close my eyes and listen to Egregore, as the music was being piped in on speakers. 

As exciting as it was to depart from Vancouver through False Creek, the later views got a bit less exciting past sunset, since out in the waters past UBC, it started to feel not unlike a BC Ferries ride. But I'd also swigged a couple of (reasonably priced) beer, which, combined with a mix of edibles I'd noshed on before, had me more than happy to just hang out below decks for the last portion of the cruise. I chatted with the bassist of Space Queen and reaffirmed that their name comes not as a pun on Ice Queen or Drama Queen, to note excessively indulgent space-consuming behaviour (like you might say to someone hogging a Skytrain seat, "Shove over you space queen"), but from a strain of weed, which makes much more sense. They are working on a follow up to their album, apparently. Egregore tried real hard to just comp me a record, but I insisted ("I'm already being comped onto the cruise!").

It was interesting how lax people were, how chill. There were security people present, but had clearly been directed to stand down unless there was an actual problem. It was nice to see the scene being allowed to regulate itself a bit.  Apparently at a past cruise, maybe the one where the Dayglo Abortions headlined, things got a bit too rowdy and the captain made the decision to turn back early ("I don't blame him, people were acting like idiots" the woman in the black-out-with-your-rack-out hat commented). But there was none of that during this year's cruise: unlike what you'd get at most venues, I never had anyone tell me "you can't do that here." Someone who had had a drink too much, maybe, took a nap on one of the dining area benches; if that had happened at an actual venue, there would have been three security people telling her she couldn't sleep there, but no one disturbed her (though her friends hung out with her to make sure all was well). When a random moshpit incident led to someone's phone going flying during Mvlgrave, it was promptly retrieved and returned to the owner. 

Speaking of phones, I had forgotten to charge mine at work, so my battery died before I could shoot photos of anyone. I also missed out on the amazing, apocalyptic red sun that we could see after Space Queen finished--you can see hints of it in my later photos, but it only got redder as it got lower in the sky, so much so that you could see people pointing it out to their friends. Due to forest fire smoke, sure, but still amazing to see in the sky, and, y'know, metal as fuck.