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Slauter Xstroyes @ Up the Hammers

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Chicago cult favorites Slauter Xstroyes recently reformed and played the Up the Hammers festival in Athens, GR. When I discovered that Invisible Oranges reader Helm had attended, I had to get a live report. Old-school American bands often get more love in Europe (especially Greece) than in America, so YouTube is probably the closest I’ll get to seeing them live. I get envious when I see moshpit-free European crowds who are so enthusiastic that they sing along to guitar solos. You’ll see that spirit in videos like the one above, and here and here.

Below is an excerpt from Helm’s live report of the festival. For his full report, see here. – CL

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An club is a relatively small venue but one full of history. Situated in the urban epicenter of Athens, Greece, a usual ‘third choice’ for international rock bands and most certainly the first choice for most local ones looking for a host. I’d say six hundred people could be packed in there if an organizer were willing to risk an asphyxiation or two (and they mostly do). One of the few places in the capital where anyone can negotiate a live show for a decent cost makes it a staple for metal concerts organized by fans and supporters in the underground. Such is the case with the annual Up The Hammers festival whose focus is on the tried and true types of Heavy Metal. The selection of bands is made on what I suspect is a three-fold standard: quality, cult appeal and willingness to travel.

The club is as underground as the bands that will be playing. The ventilation is often spotty, as is the sound. The stairs up terminate to a civilian road so the early metalheads loiter in packs before the show, perhaps grab a bite in the adjacent sandwich shop.

From an anthropological point of view I expect the North American listener of extreme music (in the general sense) would be shocked to survey the crowd that gathers outside. Wave after wave of the traditional roving metalhead packs gather for the pilgrimage. Two or three dedicated longhairs, perhaps a girlfriend decided to come, perhaps the wayward metal brother that has succumbed to societal pressures is willing to put on the faded colors for the occasion. They gather in close-but-not-too-close circles, perhaps exchange some pleasantries with each other but mostly keep to their coterie. Uniformly the fashion is out of 1983 or so. Even the retro-thrasher look that is in vogue around the globe right now is a minority this night. Instead the paraphernalia of an older zeitgeist dominate. Manowar covers on cut denim on top of leather jackets, spikes on wristbands, bright red patches in a sea of black, a bandanna, ‘Sign of the Hammer’ or ‘Melissa’. There’s as many balding heads as there are manes. I saw a tall lanky dude with black raven hair, a widow’s peak, pointy devil’s goatee and Fu Manchu combo, long v-cut spandex shirt displaying a proud chest of hair, vinyl tights, knee-high black boots and a St. Vitus tattoo right on top of his heart and you know he means business. There aren’t many beard-men around, not many casuals, even the women are decked out. These are the people who no longer wear the outfit to shock their school teachers, they wear it as a tribute to how the perpetually teen-aged spirit of metal has shaped them. For good and bad and worse.

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— Helm