GOATWHORE

Yeah, you heard me....GOATWHORE.

I was gonna title this post "when middle aged men throw the horns", but was afraid the mental image of Ivan and Bobo in a mosh pit would drive even the most stalwart and grounded reader gibbering mad, as if they'd glimpsed the oddly textured ivory pages of that ancient and evil text The King in Yellow

Since the principals refuse to update, the onus of reporting this foray into the music of their youth (well....actually the music of Ivan's youth, bobo being more the sensitive, pompadoured Joy Division/Bauhaus/Love and Rockets sort) falls upon me.

So yeah, Ivan came across this band High on Fire and cajoled Bobo into seeing them in Long Beach at Alex's Bar. A bar who's google description as the 'best damn punk rock bar in Southern California' seems both limited in ambition and somewhat at odds with their offer of free wifi with the purchase of a drink. This puts me in mind of a post-punk friend of a friend who sported a bleached mohawk for years past its expiration date and espoused a punk rock ethos while making regular visits to the chiropractor on his folk's dime...but anyway.

So they make the scene, and according to Bobo have a fine time amongst the wire thin meth addicts and beer bellied rockers. Watch Them Die rocked by all accounts, GOATWHORE rocked harder, and headliner High on Fire rocked hardest of all, ejecting our heroes happy, spent and sopping wet into the graying pre-dawn of their workaday lives.

I'm hoping they picked up some merchandise to commemorate their metal interlude ( ideally this fine remix of a heavy metal icon), something to clutch in their hands when they awake, proof that it wasn't all a pleasant, headbanging dream.