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By: Ashley Parrish Otteman

Photos by: Bre Sheridan 

The drive was brutal. Navigating my way through Denver's gridlock felt like an eternity. The show was set to start at seven, but by the time I arrived, it was at least 20 minutes past—much to my punctual soul's dismay. Topping it off with a less-than-warm welcome from the doorman, my daily tolerance for minor annoyances was waning—and quickly. But I brushed it off and made my way through the familiar sea of studded leather and vibrantly colored hair, determined to make the best of it.

Moe's Original BBQ has a laid-back vibe. A narrow path lined with tables on each side opens up to a small area in front of the stage, giving it a casual, intimate feel. As I settled into a spot off to the side, I noticed the air was thick with anticipation, filled with the distinct aromas of BBQ sauce, sweat, and a faint trace of spilled beer—all of which would get progressively worse as the night wore on. To my surprise, I didn't miss any of the first band's performance, which was a nice bonus for me since I wanted to catch the entirety of each set. Things were quickly starting to look up.

Kicking it off was Violent Death, a three-piece from Fort Worth, Texas. They shattered my expectations with their full sound. The trio, led by Cody Boyles on vocals and guitar, brought an unexpected flavor to the mix with a unique vocal tone, meshing well with Rodney Hill’s deep and resonant bass and Jonathan Baker’s steady drumming. There was a nice atmospheric interlude mid-set, offering a moment's pause. They filled the room with their presence, proving that sometimes, three's all you need. Their sound was neither lacking in depth nor dynamism. 

Next on the docket was Lacerated. Channeling the ferocious spirit of 90's death metal, their performance showcased some profound extreme vocals, low growls that reverberated through the very bones of the crowd. The band's sound was dark and complex, with guitar leads slicing through the air with precision. The bass and drums locked together seamlessly, providing a solid foundation. As the set progressed, the dark and brutal atmosphere finally took over the room as the pit exploded to life, capturing the raw power and intensity.

Next up, shifting the energy, was Human Paint. This marked the third time I've seen them live, and they've blown me away each time. Their musical execution is exceptionally solid. The deep, resonant bass tones, combined with sharp guitar riffs and rapid drum beats, melded into a cohesive chaos. Frontman David Assari ramped up the energy to its peak, drawing a profound response from the audience.

Right before their set, my friends Bre and Eden snuck on stage in ski masks and consensually placed stickers on the nipples of Charlie, the ever-shirtless bass player—foreshadowing how the stage is more like a minor suggestion rather than a strict boundary when it comes to these guys. The guitar player, Jack, meandered casually through the raging pit, void of any apparent signs of urgency. In fact, the band moved around on stage so much that it was hard to notice when one of them left it; they just popped up behind you out of nowhere. Even frontman David divided his time equally between the stage and the pit, encouraging a conga line and then leading the charge. There were a few brave stage jumpers who caught us all by surprise and grossly overestimated my cat-like reflexes, but no one got hurt, so it’s fine.

Goat Hill Massacre's performance added a refreshing element of unpredictability to the lineup, particularly with their innovative vocalist switcheroo. This approach not only showcased their versatility but also left a memorable impression on anyone who has witnessed their live act. Andre Whitehair-Hardyway and Josh Walton effortlessly alternated between bass and vocals, each bringing a unique flair to both roles. Behind them, Danielle Wilkins on the drums provided a solid rhythmic base, driving the intensity with her relentless and skillful drumming.

The set kicked off with Andre leading the vocals, complemented by Josh's rich bass tones. Guitarists Joe Wilkins and Josh Cornwell stood out with their catchy riffs and intricate solos, especially during the intro of “The Hanged Man,” which captivated the audience with its engaging groove. Midway through the set, the roles were reversed, giving Josh a chance at the mic. His higher pitch is a compelling contrast to Andre's deeper tones, proving just as excellent. 

The atmosphere at Moe’s by this point felt energized and overwhelmingly positive. The crowd continuously looked out for one another. The BBQ smell was all but gone now, replaced with pungent body odor and significant amounts of spilled beer, Yet, for anyone daring enough to get near the stage, it's understood that this comes with the territory.

Skin Dancer hit the stage as headliners, with Cypress Hill blasting through the PA. Frontman Tyson Wolff burst onto the scene, marking my first live encounter with the band. Unsure of what to anticipate, I was caught off guard—in the best way possible. After all, who doesn't appreciate an unhinged frontman? His energy was something else. Unfortunately, as the night wore on past eleven, the size of the audience had dwindled—a common challenge for headliners. It’s a real shame because Skin Dancer was on fire, their performance was a genuine showcase of pure intensity and undeniable talent. The bass was rich and enveloping; the guitar riffs were smooth, the drumming rapid and precise, and Tyson’s vocals truly captivated me—his high screams seemed to dive straight into my tortured psyche. His skill in navigating the realm of extreme vocals not only captured my attention but also deepened my appreciation for the art form, highlighting the unique impact such a vocal style can have. 

Overall, the night was a blast. I caught up with some friends, made new ones, and completely shook off the bad mood I had upon arriving. This is the magic of shows like these; they remind you to leave your troubles at the door, dive in, and simply enjoy the moment. The crowd was incredibly welcoming and vibrant, though admittedly not the freshest smelling. Yet, this sense of community and shared enthusiasm was widely felt—and smelt—throughout the venue.

See you in the circle pit!

MOESshow - Amy Asche Photography (smugmug.com)