This evening I was picked up by my good friend Danny as we headed down the finally thawing streets of St. Louis, MO en route to Red Flag, the pre-eminent club to see some serious death metal in St. Louis.

Though it’s not nearly as convenient as my previous address, it’s quite close enough to be nearly around the corner. The conversation on the drive focused on how many people might be at this show. My personal experience with Red Flag is a bit spotty as they were in the process of opening during the COVID-19 Pandemic and it took some time before I started going to shows again, especially indoor clubs, but I am intimately familiar with their previous location, FUBAR-STL. So, my idea that there would be fifty people on a random January Wednesday night in St. Louis, may have been a bit on the ignorant side.

It was also wholly incorrect. I would guess that there were over 200 people in that club, but as lacking the familiarity, it might be well short. There was a good, strong, and diverse crowd of people that stretched from wall to wall of Red Flag.

Our first disappointment of the night was learning the Embryonic Autopsy couldn’t make the show, so down from four to three bands. The Tasmanian death devils in Psycroptic were up first. 

This was my first experience with this group. It’s probably better to refer to them as Death Grind more than Death Metal. There was little in the way of solos and only one guitarist. They had a strong command of the stage before pulling the crowd under their spell. It wasn’t long before the requests for the circle pit were answered in the affirmative. Great showing by the undercard band.

Next, we turn to a founding father of death metal. Six Feet Under featuring the infamous Chris Barnes, formerly of Cannibal Corpse, took the stage. My new friend Jason from Kansas City that I met whilst outside with the others, was truly excited to see what was about to befall us. 

He spoke about how Barnes looked much different now and it felt like he was giving a very silent, brace yourself for what you’re about to see. The dreadlocks were still there, but seemingly less of them. The face mask of anger was gone and replaced by a smiling, nearly Santa Claus-looking figure.

Wearing a Russian peasant’s hat and sporting a wild, white beard, he looked more like a down-on-his-luck Karl Marx than a legendary death metal practitioner. The choice made for where the band lined up was what gave the most pause. On the left side of the stage featured two bald and bearded younger men who we’ll call the cousin brothers. (NOTE: that’s how I refer to my cousins, because we were close enough to be brothers and these guys looked related.) On the right side, stood the aged. Barnes and his longtime guitarist Jack Owen (ex-Cannibal Corpse, ex-Deicide). 

Had they mixed and matched, much of what’s coming up wouldn’t have been as noticeable. Barnes seemed as old as he looked. He smiled, pumped his fist, and thanked the crowd for showing up.

He didn’t seem to exude any rage, even in his vocals in the early songs in the set. His fist pumps and crowd raps made his age stand out even more. When I closed my eyes and let the music’s sound be my sole focus, it was clear how raging this band still is. As the show progressed, the songs grew faster, heavier, and ever so delightfully ugly. All in all, it was a very good show, but it was bookended by far more energetic bands which also made the slothfulness overly apparent.

Nile came out to finish the show. Like with most long-running death metal bands, they were featuring new members and the singer that opened for King Diamond at Pop’s was no longer there. It’s been that long since mine eyes have beheld Nile.

Instead of one growling man, we were treated the three tenors of death metal. The only real issue with this is that they were trading off lines for the majority of the show like they were the Beastie Boys. Put to use in a slightly different way, this diversity would have improved the music.

Just like the previous bands, Nile was rehearsed and in sync down to the millisecond. Seeing this kind of musical technicality live and in person is always a bit boggling to the senses. How these bands can be so precise is uncanny.

Their presence and wild solos intertwined with the brutality of the music. Nile, not one of my favored bands before this evening, played a set of death metal like it’s supposed to be. They just came out and crushed the stage. It was unyielding and defiant. The only problem was at this point in the night, the circle pit had grown drunk and tired. There was more hugging than there was moshing.

As the fans were spent, so was Nile. Both groups of people finish in a climax of death and destruction only to fall into each other’s arms with a bit of pillow talk to rein in the night. 

This was a badass night of metal that shouldn’t be missed if it’s coming to your town.

 

Buy Nile music and merch here:
https://amzn.to/4gBriXM

 

Special Thanks to Danny Nichols for the photos

 

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