NASHVILLE, TN | This was one for the history books. Avatar blew the roof off Nashville’s Brooklyn Bowl Sunday night, a stop on September’s “Chimp Mosh Pit” tour. It was exhilarating—top to bottom, not just one of the best shows I’ve been to in recent times, it was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen in my life. I’m still wiped out.
Leading off on this tour is The Native Howl (Alex Holycross, Zach Bolling, Mark Chandler, and Jacob Sawicki), from Detroit, Michigan. They specialize in “thrash grass,” a newly coined term describing a sound that combines the melodicism and precision of bluegrass with the aggression of thrash metal. To illustrate, a hallmark of their sets is “Harvester of Constant Sorrow,” which mashes up The Soggy Bottom Boys and Metallica—imagine metal with a banjo solo. Live, it’s a sound that is clever and creative—it works extremely well.
In Nashville, The Native Howl were poorly lit to the point of performing in the dark; this was unfortunate as it undermined the crowd’s ability to really see the charisma of singer Holycross. The previous weekend I traveled to Bloomington, IL to catch this tour in advance of covering it in Nashville. The Native Howl had been on my radar for a while, and I was curious about how they would be live.
It was fun to see all three bands on the bill in what felt like a sardine can of a club. When I caught the show in Bloomington, Holycross struck me as a bit of a Joe Cocker type—imagine if Cocker had a Michigan grandson. His expressive eyes and signature bare feet aren’t a gimmick of any kind—this is who this dude is.
Fortunately, bad lights don’t affect his powerful vocals and the rest of the band’s intense sound. The Brooklyn Bowl’s security staff apparently didn’t anticipate how hard fans were going to throw down to thrash grass; crowd surfing got started early in the night and I got hit in the head by a woman sailing over the barrier. All in an evening’s work.
Swedish death metal outfit Orbit Culture (Niklas Karlsson, Frederik Lennartsson, Richard Hansson, and Christopher Wallerstedt) is along for the ride again, having toured with Avatar in the spring. Since seeing them in the spring, the band seems to have picked up a lot of fans in the US—I saw just as many Orbit Culture t-shirts in the audience as Avatar tees Sunday night, as well as the previous weekend in Illinois.
Rightly so—the buzz among us photographers as the band tore through their eight-song set was that Orbit Culture seems to have gotten better, if it were possible. At The Castle Theatre in Bloomington, the sheer brute force of their sound, coupled with the tight space around the stage, made their set feel like barely controlled peril. If serious moshing broke out, we’d all have been injured (at least that’s what it felt like). Fortunately, the Brooklyn Bowl has more room to breathe—moshing ensued, and the crowd surfing was intense enough for security to kick us photographers out of the crowded pit just short of our three-song allotment. That was a first for a few of us.
In July, I covered the National Independent Venue Association (NIVA) conference in Washington, DC for The Vinyl District. One of the overarching themes of that conference was the current state of ticket pricing—artists and policymakers alike expressed concern that runaway ticket pricing is making live music inaccessible for fans, especially younger fans. In recent years, I’ve certainly mourned my bank account because of ticket prices that can run into the hundreds of dollars for one person at a single arena show, to say nothing of additional travel costs.
Reader, I’m here to tell you a ticket for an Avatar headlining show, one of the music industry’s best live acts—not just in metal, but in any genre—can be had for about 40 bucks. I know this because I ran the numbers for the remaining North American headlining dates this month, converting to US Dollars where needed for consistency. Hell, I might buy another ticket. But Avatar also tours constantly, so whether you’re in Milwaukee or Milan, the heavy metal circus will come to your area eventually. There are glimmers of light in this dark and lonely world.
I know I constantly gush about these Swedes from Gothenburg (Jonas Jarlsby, John Alfredsson, Johannes Eckerström, Tim Öhrström, and Henrik Sandelin), but I am unashamed. Know that everything said here is true. It is true that their theatric and engaging show appears to be performed with endless energy, stamina, and talent. It is true that, performed live, their music, while “death metal,” is catchy enough to appeal to even more casual fans of heavy music. It is true that an Avatar gig is some of the most fun you can have standing up.
I’ve mentioned before here that the first time I ever covered Avatar (in 2019) for The Vinyl District was also the first time I’d ever seen them or even heard of them. Looking back, it was a baptism by fire. There is video still out there on YouTube of that fateful night in Washington, DC; I can watch myself fall in love in real time while I get slapped in the face by “Hail the Apocalypse.”
The band was firing on all cylinders Sunday night. The two-hour-long set list is mostly consistent with the spring tour, but “Bloody Angel” is back in the set and, in lieu of “Black Waltz,” Nashville fans were treated to “Violence No Matter What,” which features Lzzy Hale. Hale popped out of a strategically placed gift box, along with vocalist Eckerström, to the surprise of the crowd. I never tire of “Colossus,” “Hail the Apocalypse,” and “When the Snow Lies Red.” It was all incredible, and the fans wore themselves out, but to be honest, the band could probably cover nursery rhymes all night and they would still have us eating out of their hands.
This run of shows wraps up on October 8, in San Luis Obispo, California. In November, Avatar joins Ice Nine Kills and In This Moment as support on the Kiss of Death tour.
ORBIT CULTURE
THE NATIVE HOWL
Avatar Setlist
Dance Devil Dance
The Eagle Has Landed
Valley of Disease
Chimp Mosh Pit
Paint Me Red
Bloody Angel
For the Swarm
Puppet Show
When the Snow Lies Red
Do You Feel in Control
Violence No Matter What
Tower
Colossus
Let It Burn
A Statue of the King
The Dirt I’m Buried In
Smells Like a Freakshow
Hail the Apocalypse
