DATE: Sunday, September 28, 1997 TAG: 9709290251 SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B9 EDITION: FINAL TYPE: Music review SOURCE: BY JEFF MAISEY, CORRESPONDENT DATELINE: NORFOLK LENGTH: 42 lines
A landslide of pounding rock came crashing down at the Boathouse Friday night, as concert-goers experienced the sonically hard Helmet.
The New York quartet was on an extended tour in support of their back-to-the-basics ``Aftertaste.'' During the spring they were on the road with the gruesome Marilyn Manson and Korn.
From the get-go, Helmet came out hammering.
The penetrating guitars of Page Hamilton and Chris Traynor were a vortex of sound, each with slashing distinction. Hamilton commanded the singing duties, shouting out the lyrics as if their meaningfulness outweighed the value of melody. The drum and bass section of John Stanier and Henry Bogdan were a strapped-on, tight punch of rhythmic aggression.
Helmet gave the crowd ``Exactly What You Wanted'' and ``Like I Care'' from the power rock long-play ``Aftertaste.'' The songs' mega-chord structures were a dynamic wall of sound, which the audience happily absorbed. The terrific set ended with ``In The Meantime'' from the 1992 gold-selling ``Meantime.''
Speaking of ``Meantime,'' its producer, Wharton Tiers, brought his Ensemble down from that art metropolis we all know as New York City. The famed producer of bands like Sonic Youth, who once played drums with performance artist Laurie Anderson, sat behind his percussion kit facing the four guitarists, one bassist and saxophonist that make up his troupe. You might think four guitar players - one of which was former Waxing Poetic Paul Johnson - is overkill. It was not, as each performed separate parts to create one big soundwave.
The Ensemble's music resembled an instrumental ``For Your Pleasure''-era Roxy Music. Fletcher Buckley wailed away on the sax during ``Sheet Metal Workers.'' His blustery solos gave the Wharton Tiers Ensemble a neat dimension to their intellectualism. Members of the audience unfortunately were excessively, verbally disrespectful. The compositions were obviously beyond their comprehension.
The trio known as Melvins did their expected rendition of material. Their experimental harshness dragged during the ambient moments and flexed mightily when an all-out musical assault was under way. The Melvins' growling voices and kicking drums were all the rave.
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