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Witnessed
Master, Nebukadnezza, some other bands, 2008-02-04
17/03/08 || Global Domination
This review was written by ex-staffer/cocksmoker MaxVonLaibach.
Where and when: Camden Underworld, London, England, 2008-02-04.
As I tend to drink heavily during most of the concerts I go to, I’ve decided to stay sober on this one. The reasons for this were manifold: I wanted to save some money for merchandise, prove to myself that I can still have fun without beer and, most importantly, I have just recovered from a terrible hangover.
I’ve missed the first band completely, as I decided it was a better
idea to stay and chat with a few people outside. But i’ve managed to get
in for the second band, which was called Hebrew Slaughter, 
or Sarmatian Holocaust or something like that. It might not have been
bad, but the guy at the knobs seemed like he had no idea whatsoever
about what he was doing, thus spoiling any serious attempt ar reviewing
the gig. The whole thing sounded like a guy being killed by a chainsaw,
with the occasional drumkick heard in the background. Far from
impressed, I went out for a cigarette.
Next band on schedule was Nebukadnezza, which sounds awfully trve
and unfriendly, at least to me. Luckily, they turned out to be an
oldschool thrashing threesome, and quite a good one as well, from what I
could gather from directly under the stage. It was the 
simple, heavily hardcore influenced kinda thrash. As I joined the
moshing I suddenly bumped into something soft. I looked around and
realized that about half the people in the pit were chicks. Now, there’s
few things better than a moshpit during a thrash gig, and one of them
is definitely bumping into some nice tits while moshing in a thrash gig.
All in all, the guys deserve a solid 7 outta 10 for their concert.
Finally, the moment we all have been waiting for. Mr Speckmann
appeared with his bass and awesome beard and announced that they’ll be
starting soon. A few minutes after that, all hell broke loose. The band
played a good mixture of old and new stuff, all sounding the way death
metal is supposed to sound- fast and heavy. No wankery, simple riffs
backed with pounding drums and supplemented with the “Lemmy’s growl”
brought out from the 
bottom of Speckmaster’s bowels. Again, the pit started almost instantly
as the audience responded to the power of the music. Best thing of all,
these guys are very down to earth. No “Trver than thou” bullshit, no
growling in between the songs, they let the music speak for itself.
Specklord lead the fray with his fantastic beard and the jokes he would
occasionally tell the public, before jumping again into the
fast-fingered bass lines and the trademark grunts that screamed MASTER!
to us all. While Master on record is simply a good, original band,
onstage they become really fucken incredible. They blew me away. They
thrashed my ass to pieces. They truly dominated that night. 9/10
My father divorced my mom when I was about 15. So he went to this catholic organization to find a woman, but they were all fat and ugly. So he went to the fattest and ugliest one and said:
-Hi.
-Hi, what’s up?
-Your funeral, bitch!
Paul Speckmann.
