Max Watts is an unassuming basement-level venue smack bang in the middle of the CBD. As it’s underground it feels very enclosed, offering an intimate experience for concert-goers. Notably I saw Mount Eerie earlier this year, which was a sob-fest–as one who is familiar with Phil Elverum’s work to any degree would predict. Anyway, I was here for the Eyehategod gig, so more on that.

The first act was Choof, who I had seen prior, opening for a Despise You gig. What they lack in sonic variety (every song sounds pretty similar, tbh) they more than made up for in energy, bringing back more of a DIY-show performance which was not seen in Eyehategod or Goatwhore’s respective sets. They fed audience members with necessary sustenance (Melbourne Bitter) either straight from the can or by spraying it into the pit area, while jacking off the mic. As one does. It did at times feel like the vocalist’s lack of range held the other musicians back. While boasting some quality growls and screams, their mid-range was very samey in tone and sounded like some drunk guy you’d find yelling to himself outside the venue. This all comes across as very negative, however I did find Choof to be the highlight of the night, given their no-bullshit attitude to delivering disintegrating break beats, especially given their experience playing with stoner bands prior. I recommend checking out their EP Dimwitted Amoral Exploitation and am keenly waiting to see how their sound (mostly in terms of tone and the vocalist’s technical abilities) develops on any future LPs/EPs.

Next was Goatwhore, who came down all the way from Louisiana for the first time since 2015. The band had a wholesome stage presence, in partial thanks to the drummer Franky for taking over for Zak, who was unable to attend due to visa issues. This would be in stark contrast to the melodic guitar riffs, the unrelenting machine that was the drum kit, and the rapturous vocals which hypnotised the crowd into a wild frenzy of self-abuse in the pit. The band primarily played tunes from their latest album Carving Out the Eyes of God, honouring the 80s thrash scene and sometimes dipping into dirtier, sludgier sounds.

In between sets many of the concert-goers refilled their glasses at the bar with that delicious yeast nectar (beer) and dipped outside to Swanston street for a breath of fresh air and tobacco.  Here, local guitarist Max Grimm’s performances of some old Opeth tracks, provided Swanston street with a sick atmosphere for the people who came for the gig and passers-by who stared in awe at their many decorated vests and big black stompy boots.

The latter half of the night was in the hands of the highly anticipated (also) Louisiana-based act, Eyehategod (EHG). Eavesdropping, I learnt that many of those in attendance had also patronised their last Australian tour in 2019, and could not wait for another opportunity to indulge in some self-abuse with EHG as the backing track. The concert visuals featured the band’s logo and a very low-res closeup image of someone shooting heroin. A little bit goofy, just because you’d think they could take the time to find a picture with more than 50 pixels, but I digress. When they began their world tour in 2023, it marked the 50 year anniversary of their ‘98 album Take as Needed for Pain, which boasts a bolded status on the music review website Rate Your Music. What was lacking in memorable tracks was made up for in atmosphere created by the sheer skill of each section of Eyehategod. Often, the same riffs would reappear throughout different songs, resembling the constant neuroses and deep itching desires of an addict, or some festering disease which consumes mind and body in a hedonistic, self-destructive fervour. The sweat which lined everyone’s backs, and fogged up glasses, drew up images of a sweltering Louisiana summer spent laying on the tiled floor of a below regulation rental and trying to scrounge up enough cash for another hit. The band’s discography conjures this up vividly even to those who have never had those sorts of experiences.

Admittedly, I am not the biggest fan of sludge, trash or death metal, but this night really made me appreciate the old-head albums that greatly contributed to the overall history of the metal genre. Though corny, nothing will ever beat the sense of community one feels in going wild in the mosh pit and picking each other up when they need a hand.