Metal is catharsis, metal is flooring it to “Love Me Like a Reptile” on an open highway, metal is a flailing mosh pit-punch to the eye (and the killer shiner afterward) and, when in the throng of tens or thousands of headbangers, metal is where I find my brothers and sisters, horns up and ready to scream bloody gore. — Lars Gotrich
Maryland Deathfest Portrait, No. 8: Meet YOB’s Mike Scheidt from Eugene, Oregon. The band’s thunderously meditative set at MDF was a personal highlight for me, inspiring ecstatic full-body motion something like a decibel baptism. For Mike, he doesn’t think YOB’s musically spiritual overtones are necessarily new, just more inclusive.
"The heart in [metal] is so sincere," says Scheidt. "Nobody has any illusion of it being any better than this right now."
Maryland Deathfest Portrait, No. 7: Meet Tara and William from Belfon, Pennsylvania. Tara is essentially a librarian for stamps (so nerdy, love it) and got into metal through William, but not without reservations: “I came to MDF last year and I was scared out of my mind. This is gonna be the worst four days of my life. And by the end of it, I was just like, ‘Wow, that was the best four days of my life. I can’t wait to go back next year.’”
Maryland Deathfest Portrait, No. 6: Meet Fred Pessaro from Brooklyn, New York. For Fred, “metal is catharsis.” He’s a freelance concert photographer for several publications and a NY-area concert promoter, but his main gig is with Brooklyn Vegan where he pits hardcore and metal material along side the site’s usual indie fare. Of the many sets he loved during MDF, Napalm Death left a distinct impression by performing one song from every album of its long and consistent career.