It was the day we had been waiting for for months, or rather years you could say, if we actually thought it could happen. Like a whispered rumor it spread fast and bellowed into a chant of truth: Amebix are coming! Amebix are coming!

I never fathomed that day would materialize. There is a concept of Amebix that has been shrouded in mystery and myth. It was like legend, stories passed down for generations, tales wailed on a million drunken evenings and ceremoniously absorbed on winter nights alone. They blew in and out fairly quickly yet still hold the capacity to knock us down in praise today. Legend no more, they had actually arisen. Holy shit!

It was winter when they came, appropriately. The day we set to leave for New York saw the biggest snow storm my city had weathered since 1978. It was an ‘emergency’, no one permitted on the roads save for the plows and police ofcourse. Everything shut down. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that kept us paralyzed when we had one of the biggest missions of our lives to conquer. Nervous energy plagued the hours, packs packed, boots on, and waiting waiting. It didn’t help to know that the storm was moving in the exact direction that we needed to go. It was our only chance though, so we threw caution and grabbed it.

I’d like to think with a mystic sensibility that we plowed the course unscathed because of the task at hand. How could anything go wrong when you are about to witness a divinatory experience? How can you stall when you know without a doubt that something in the near future is about to change your life? I don’t know really, but I obviously had a lot invested!

Cars were littered along the sides of the highways, abandoned to mounds of snow. We passed a mail carrier truck with it’s entire side panel peeled back and packages strewn all over the road. We dodged it all, the blinding white, the black ice, and the cocky semi-truck drivers with a death wish. Many hours later we found ourselves in the busily digesting belly of Manhattan. Maybe it was dumb luck but we fucking made it.

The harrowing bits seemed a test to receive the reward at the end of the journey. New York was sunny, mild, and all-too inviting. It had been a couple years since I’d been there and I fell snugly back in with ease. We blew through Brooklyn, meeting up with some friends who were on their way to the sound check. Somehow it seemed like a torturous joke that they were going to see this band do that, still not registering that Amebix were actually in the vicinity. It was really happening though and we had some time to kill. We met up with my brother and ate, a pretty good idea if you know what’s in store for later. Wandering down St. Mark’s we spotted a Mexican restaurant with a margerita happy hour in progress and pregamed it with a little sauce. Also a good idea!

From that point on we were firmly seated on the rollercoaster ride. New York tipped off the NE leg of the tour and the people came in droves: east coast, midwest, and south. The energy was infectious and everyone buzzed with reunions, catching up, and celebrating the momentous night. Attake were first to warm up what was fast becoming a combustible engine, and they slayed! Thought Crime put on a riotus show, and Kylesa shredded through a set I was stoked to see..it had been a while. I realize now that the choice of that line-up meshed together: the metal axe, the charging 80’s punk, and the hypnotic drone, made up the essentials of what we know and love about Amebix themselves. And then they took the stage…

I made my way through the mob and had an unfortunate altercation with a female who didn’t like the idea of me passing by her spot apparently. This threatened to sour my mood. I mean really, how can you be a shithead when Amebix are about to play in your face?! I used heavy restraint on this matter to avoid being kicked out before even seeing them (!!) and settled next to an amp. Cup rest score, balance crutch, and nice view to boot!

The distinctive sound of Rob’s bass pummeled the intro to Winter and any doubt that 20 years could dilute the intensity vanished. I had read later in Dan’s interview with Rob that this was the first song played in a basement in Ireland with Roy Mayorga (last year) to see if this could be a possibility. Roy (Nausea, Soulfly..both well loved offspring of Amebix sonically in some form or another) is undoubtedly the keenest drummer of the genre. With Amebix he brings the bones that held the sound sturdy on it’s feet. His particular tweaks on the tribal elements, as well as his synthesizer offerings, rounded out the flesh to Rob and Stig’s Frankenstein. I honestly think that if it was anyone else it could have proved fatal.

The Power Remains, Progress?, Axemen, Church is for Sinners… these songs were given life again by the ones who birthed it. Rob’s voice, after lying dormant for two decades, picked up where he fell silent. The years had done justice to vocalize a gruffer component to the style we were already in love with. He effortlessly ground it out on the bass as well. And there was Stig, the towering black clad messenger who hadn’t stopped bringing the noise after Amebix collapsed originally. You could tell. His guitar was keen on the legacy, that peculiar simplicity that says so much sans any fancy fingerwork. It steers the beast without distraction, a huge principality that distinguished them as punk, as opposed to a metal band. And he looked as if, in another dimension, Amebix never died.

We sang our hearts out to every last word penned so long ago. With veins bulging, lungs deflating, and all the while cheshire grins, it was a sea of beleivers. Like a cult we chanted the psalms, pumped our fists, and some of us were even crying; Darkest Hour, Drink and be Merry anyone? I saw a grown man tearing up at the Philly show to the latter, and who could blame him? Not only were we witnessing a monumental influence on our culture in the flesh, but we were huddled amongst our peers who all felt exactly the same way.

I am not religious, never have been, but I imagine that was the closest to a ‘religious experience’ that I’ll ever get. The people on that journey to those NE gigs, like a gypsy caravan, were just as much a part of the whole as seeing Amebix themselves. I’ve never seen so many punk rocker’s teeth in all my life! The smiles were contagious. And Amebix were a part of the groggy before and intoxicated after elements of every show they played. There was no line drawn between ‘performer and fan’, it was a collective tribe.

Those short but jampacked days were smothered in experience. Providence rocked it with an independent and intimate venue (150 people?!), where Morne also showcased a mind-bending set. Philly pulled out all the stops with an enormous show, Behind Enemy Lines (!!), etc., that still managed to feel personal to each being in it. The after party at Tattoo Mom’s was riotus as well.
   There were a myriad of elements that made that time unforgettable, reuniting with friends, some not seen in a decade, forging new ones, and all the great bands who had the privelege to play with musical heros (and doing a damn good job at it!). The crowds defeaning roar to songs like Axemen. The elated expressions of Amebix themselves that mirrored our own. And somehow being able to outsmart a hangover the whole way, made it all a phenomenal time…. See you in May!!

   -Amebix (bangover!)-

To all friends old and new
And the ones who couldn’t be there we drank quite a few for you too
It was a gathering that will be tattooed for life
And a sound forever ringing in our minds
Nights of rage and rejoice
Mystic lyrics sang in a collective voice
For the almighty Amebix
We pledge allegience !!!!

(thanks to Todd and Bretton for being a stellar road crew, Matt and Sarah for the hotel floor space and all around hospitality, and everyone else involved, namely Amebix for too many reasons to list!)