Adventures in the land of metal

It’s Saturday night, Nov. 1, and Torche, one of the best live bands currently burning rubber on the wide-open road, is about to go on at the Satyricon.

It’s late, about midnight. (Why did the show start at 10 p.m. again?) And you’re ready for an unholy unison of power-pop melody and down-tuned sludge, that unusual confection only Torche can provide. They’re Florida’s best export, even better than orange juice.

The opening bands did their part, playing LOUD, revving their engines.

First up was Clouds, who seem like an American version of Boris without the experimental bent. You decide this is probably a good thing. They played well, though the band sometimes tried to cram too many sounds into their songs.

The lead guitarist’s amplifier tone–which enveloped you like a warm, deafening pancake–held the band’s set together like super glue as songs diverged from slow, doomy burners to speedy classic hardcore.

Next, Lousiville stalwarts Coliseum took the stage for a breakneck set of crusty punk. They were so loud that their songs became mushy, a blur of speed and aggression. You were impressed with the drummer because he never stopped moving.

You wonder if maybe he was doing too much, and liked best the songs where he, and the rest of the band, slowed down. Sometimes speed for the sake of speed can be boring.

Finally, Torche-the band amongst bands. With a blast from a fog machine, they were off, playing the riff from The Beatles’ “I Want You So Bad (She’s So Heavy).” A fitting choice–you’ve always suspected this particular tune as a metalhead favorite. Torche just proved it.

Continuing, Torche laces through a set of tracks mostly from their recent album, Meanderthal. The songs sound heavier live, and that the band pours energy into their set like an over-zappped electromagnet. Amply rewarded, head banging ensues. Lots of head banging.

It’s hard not to when a band so perfectly distills catchy rock and heavy, heavy metal. You notice that singer Steve Brooks sports a maniacal grin (and a neat mustache). It’s easy to see why. Torche is a band that’s having fun.

More songs, more head banging, more fog–the energy stays up. Yes, this band knows how to put on a fucking live show.

Now, the guitar switch. In comes the signature “bomb-string” tuning, inherited from a past band, Floor. Aptly named, this portion of the set has guitars that sound like bombs. Slow, heavy, bombs. But also, and this is the key, huge, awesome hooks, a sweet embrace of vocal harmonies with propulsive sludge. Brooks’ vocals may have been drowned out by the guitars, but there’s no denying, Torche get it done.

They close their set on a wash of looped feedback and noise. You walk away, smiling, maybe just a little bit deaf. This was a good show. This was Torche.