Zena Metal's Sound and Fury: Overflow: These Arms Are Snakes, Young Widows & More

It's been some time since I blogged for myself on any kind of regular basis—but that doesn't mean there haven't been exploits worth posting.

The increase in social events on my calendar exploded during late September and continues until the end of October. There's so much to look forward to, too: the Big Apple Comic Con, the CMJ Music Marathon, Eyehategod* and St. Vitus (not together) at Europa, a visit to a taping of That Metal Show featuring Ratt's Stephen Pearcy and Warren DiMartini, the Dethklok/Mastodon/Converge/High on Fire extravaganza, and my favorite holiday ever, HALLOWWWWEEEEEEN!

With so much to plan for—not to mention my recent adventures in pantyhose trying to land a day job—it's been hard keeping up with the documentation part of the fun times. That said, I had an excellent time further losing my hearing at the Down/Melvins show at Nokia, followed by Naked Raygun at Music Hall of Williamsburg, Young Widows and The Fall of Troy at Bowery Ballroom, then an electric two-night stint with These Arms Are Snakes.

Somehow I'd never managed to catch These Arms Are Snakes live before last month. Still, I always really dug their work, especially their last album, Easter. But it was after I heard their third record, Tailswallower and Dove, that I knew I needed to have the live experience.

Doing this was no easy task as I set out for Shea Stadium, a gallery space off Bushwick Ave. that was hosting the show—sketch, yo. Shortly after arriving, I was pleasantly surprised to see my old friend Derek Evers from the newly relaunched Impose Mag, whose own in-house artists, DD/MM/YY were opening the show. The guys were amazing art-rock multi-instrumentalists that switched up instruments and vocal duties every few songs to keep things exciting. Definitely check them out.

Soon enough, Seattle's These Arms Are Snakes came out and blew the roof off the place with their laser-focused post-hardcore sound. Trying to describe their tight, driven, forceful, eclectic, moody performance—words simply fail me. Add to that singer Steve Snere's lithe, expressive dance moves (which, at one point, bordered on autoerotic asphyxiation) and you've got a can't-miss show. How transcendent was it? So fucking good that I decided to go see it again the following night at Mercury Lounge.

Check out the crappy pics of some shows below, and if I bump into you at St. Vitus, EHG or any of the CMJ festivities, buy me a drank! For more amateur live photos, check out my Flickr set.

These Arms Are Snakes @ Mercury Lounge