Concert Report: Obliteration at Ren’s Den

Intro:

A birthday bash for THE poor man’s drummer, Antonio Padilla (Obliteration/Futilitarian/Project BC/Prime Evil/The Extinction) himself? This was a very special occasion, so I dressed myself up to the nines, just as promiscuous and provocative as you please. 

I had a leather harness and garter belt, layered underneath a band t shirt and plaid kilt, with a denim battle vest on top. Best of all, big badass knee-high stomping combat boots… But too bad that they made an embarrassing cutesy little *squeak* sound with every footstep! And that’s a perfect metaphor for my personality. I’m trying to cosplay as a mysterious metal mistress minx, to hide the fact that I’m like totally a valley girl or whatever, and also just a silly lil goose. 

After I finished braiding my hair and applying my make up, I went to Guitar Center to buy a gift for the birthday boi. I had promised him a capo, so he can finally play Wonderwall, like a proper musician. I had always pegged him (heh) as a forest green kind of a guy, or maybe a maroon type of dude, but they only had hot pink ones in stock. Which is actually kind of hilarious. The thought of a manly metalhead dudebro using a neon magenta capo is objectively funny. 

While there, I ran into an old flame. I mean, it’s a Guitar Center, so of course I did! Thankfully, we only had time for a quick and casual “Hey, nice to see you”. Even so, I could see in his eyes that he died a little bit inside. I quite enjoyed watching his soul exit his body, and float up through the ceiling, when he noticed my skimpy little outfit. And, honestly, I love that for myself! 

The concert:

KNFRMST were a fun throwback to classic horror punk. As a shameless fangirl of the psychobilly punk rock pioneers, Misfits, I am also, by proxy, a complete and total nerd for classic horror literature and/or cinema. As a Frankenstein aficionado, I especially appreciated the fan favorite track, Dust to Dust. The archetype of a misunderstood monster has always resonated with me. (Gee I wonder why!) Especially the self destructive tendencies! This is evidenced by the catchy chorus, “We belong dead”, which, of course, alludes to the iconic finale scene in the classic Universal horror film, Bride of Frankenstein. Like yeah I’m obviously tormented by eternal self loathing, but even if I take myself down, I’m taking all of you fuckers down with me as well! 

Pick Up Her Bones is another cult classic and personal favorite. I sang along with the lyrics and everything. Here’s my hot take that nobody asked for: Famous Monsters is the best Misfits Album. Fight me. Also, Michael Graves is a better frontman than Glenn Danzig. Okay, that’s not really even a hot take, just common sense. They also performed Minor Threat’s self titled song, as well as a few other iconic punk rock anthems. I found their earnest energy to be rather charming and endearing. How quite positively delightful and frightfully nice! 

Inferno Antichrist instantly became one of my favorite local bands when I first saw them at 505 Grindfest 2024. The band members include guitarist Joseph, bassist  Kregg, and vocalist Kevin. Mikey, the original drummer, is currently on hiatus, so Gabriel and Alec have been filling in on his behalf at live performances.

But unfortunately, bassist Kregg was in surgery during this particular gig.The band has helpfully informed me that the surgery went well, and I quote, “he is part cyborg now”, so that’s awesome! Meanwhile, the remaining two band mates rocked it as a duo! The setlist was mostly brand new material, like literally so new that the songs are still untitled as of yet. Inferno Antichrist are currently working on releasing their debut album, “La Gran Rebelion De Los Pueblos.” They will also be going to Texas to play at Haltom Theater in fort Worth for Purge Night V.

Some dude invented a badass new mosh pit move: flopping and rolling around the floor like a turtle flipped on the back of it’s shell. Then random people from the mosh pit simply grabbed the mic and started growling into it. Honestly, that was kind of awesome! 

Blood Hoard is extreme brutal death metal. They sounded all old school! I’m talking Skinless. I’m talking Cryptopsy. I’m talking Devourment. Everyone was headbanging. At least, from what I could see, between swings of my own wildly flying hair. My cutesy little braid was long gone, replaced insteaed with a frizzy, curly, kinky lion’s mane. The riffs were heavy, the drumming was on point, but especially, those badass gutteral vocals got my heart racing and blood pumping! The lead singer even let me keep the setlist after the show! Totally freaking rad! 

And now, the main attraction: Obliteration!

I first met the poor man’s drummer, about ten years ago, at a Fleshgod Apocalypse concert, at the now defunct Blackwater venue. The first song I ever dedicated to him, was Hammer Smashed Face by Cannibal Corpse, because,  supposedly, according to him, I have “SeVeRe AnGeR IsSuEs” and “NeEd To SeE a ThErApIsT”, and that really seriously truly pissed me the fuck off! Then I dedicated Wonderwall by Oasis to him, mostly as a joke about the capo I gifted him, but also as a sarcastic diss, because that track is so mid. But now? The song I dedicate to him, is Fuck Me To Death by Obliteration! 

That’s because that’s exactly what it felt like, when my earplugs accidentally fell out, and it was just like when the condom suddenly breaks during sex. They totally rawdogged my delicate little earholes into beautiful oblivion. Holy hell! Like yeah it already felt incredibly good before, but this is just… WOW! A whole new level of confidence and power! And I know it’s probably going to become a personal health hazard in the long term, and I’ll probably have to do damage control the morning after, but DAMN does it just feel so fantastic in the moment! I will gladly suffer the consequences, as long as the danger and risk is part of the fun. What can I say, I guess I’m just a masochistic glutton for punishment. That was a full-body shaking eargasm. Such exquisite euphoria! 

The birthday boy was wearing a t-shirt that said “Support Your Local Slut”. Aww, how sweet! I’m always rocking everyone else’s band merch, so it’s nice to see someone else return the favor for once. What a lovely, mutually supportive, symbiotic music scene we have! I had such a blast, that I totally forgot to boo Antonio off the stage. 

Outro:

I left the show around midnight. I was burnt out. Part of me wanted to be a responsible adult and go to bed early, but another, bigger part of me wanted to hang out with homies. I went to one of my favorite 24/7 stores for a nightcap. I figured, hey either I’ll crack open a cold one with the boys, or if I decide to go home alone instead of socializing, heck, screw it, more beer for me! 

Some guy at the liquor store opened the door open for me, and I thanked him. However, I bristled with defensiveness, when he said something condescending, like “Stay safe” or “be careful out there” or something like that. When any random person at a gas station, weed dispensary, smoke shop, dive bar, or any other such scummy sleazy seedy establishment, asks you if you’re okay, then something is  probably dreadfully wrong with your personal and/or professional life decisions. And it happens to me, much more often than I care to honestly admit! Was it the pentagram on my Iconocaust t shirt? Was it the spikes and patches on my battle vest? Was it the leather bondage harness, and matching riveted and studded garter belt? Was it the squeaky but still kinky boots? I don’t know. Nobody knows. 

Did I dress *too* slutty? Did I headbang *too* hard? Of course not! I’m just expressing myself! My outfit wasn’t even the kinkiest one at Ren’s Den. Most of the other chicks there were wearing corsets, mini skirts, and fishnet tights. There was literally a goddamn gimp playing keyboards for Obliteration, for Christ’s sake! But even so, I still felt uncomfortable, with what seemed like strangers staring at me and judging my every move. In all truth and actuality, they were probably just minding their own business, and living their best life, but in my head, I still felt self-conscious, like everyone was giving me dirty looks. I quickly and quietly rushed home, to swap my battle vest for a modest cardigan, and my fetish gear for an elegant dangling chandelier choker necklace. And then, cheap six-pack in hand, I headed to the after-party. 

Right about the time when the guys were debating politics and playing with guns in the garage, around 4:00 am or so, I naturally lost any and all interest in retaining consciousness. I felt my eyelids grow heavy with exhaustion, and I curled up on the couch, ready to drift off into a deep, dark, dreamless slumber. Just a few short hours later, I woke up to the sweet siren song of Waking The Demon by Bullet For My Valentine, blaring from my phone. My alarm to wake up for work! it took each and every single iota of self discipline in my body, to peel myself away from the soft safe warm comfy cozy covers, and drag my sorry ass to my job, ever-so-slightly hungover. It physically pained all of the fibers of my very being! But I still carried through with my societal obligations towards the necessary evil, of participating as a mere cog, within the soulless capitalistic corporate machine. All for just one and only sole singular purpose: 

Because band merch ain’t cheap! 

Five stars outta five!

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