by Christopher Woodford

After a successful CD release party, Liquified Guts returned to Gooski’s for another round of grinding goodness. “Guts,” by far, are the least serious of the grindcore bands in the city.  During their set, Vocalist/guitarist Jim Sherwood interacts with the audience through lighthearted descriptions of their songs.  Leading into “The Third Quaid,” audience members are asked by Jim if they know of Randy Quaid’s brother who isn’t Dennis.  Strange questions and dialogues are often common during Liquified Guts’ performances.  The goofing around continues as it flows into the band’s songs. 


Chugging and gurgling vocals are prominent sounds, like some overweight demon consuming pounds of flesh.  It is an amusing experience for fans since the grindcore trio are not instigating the crowd into moshing, which, given the subgenre’s history, is a bit odd.  But having a crossover fanbase in Pittsburgh is a feather in Liquified Guts’ cap.

Ever since Derketa came out of hibernation last year, the Steel City’s first all-female metal band has been more active than ever.  Their blend of death and doom is a lumbering force that slowly envelops and tightens upon the first grasp.  Gooski’s small backroom with a monolithic PA system is a sonic nightmare for some bands, due to the overwhelming sound that bursts forth and echoes.  Bad for some, but for Derketa it sounds and feels delightful. 


Somehow the mix for tonight is abnormally better because none of the instruments or vocals have overpowered the other.  Bass, guitar, and drums permeate through the bone.  The recent addition of drummer Michael Laughlin makes for interesting transition (from blast beats to trudging stomps), though the former member of Cattle Decapitation has suited the band well.  At the end of their set, there was a unanimous cry for encore.  A request met with dirge-ish “Until Our Death.”



Tonight was Brown Angel’s last show.  For the special occasion, a following of old and new fans alike came out in support.  A few new songs were performed live from the upcoming record, ‘Agonal Harvest,” which keeps up with Brown Angel’s dissonant, yet mechnical, music.  Most of the crowd stood mesmerized by the chanting drums and screeching guitar feedback.  John Roman’s stiffened drumming lacks wildness, but it’s fascinating to watch him play with a hardened composure. 



Out of the three band members, Adam MacGregor has the most energy, being that is the band’s vocalist and guitarist. MacGregor contorts the notes with his guitar to create scraping noises while shouting across the room.  As the evening comes to a close, the drawn out songs extend the final moments for Brown Angel just a little longer.  There was no raucous shouting of joy, nor masses of people pushed all the way back to the bar room.  Just an intimate group of friends and fans dedicated to a band that stood out from the herd.

Closing thoughts from Christopher Woodford on Brown Angel

The first time I ever saw Brown Angel was when they played at Howler’s Coyote Cafe with Molasses Barge in December of 2010.  The two local bands were opening for Providence, Rhode Island’s Loon, a doom metal trio whom I absolutely adore and have their patch sewn onto my vest.  Brown Angel were, at the time, didn’t dazzle me in any sudden way.  I found their music lacking in emotion and being too experimental at the time.  Compared with Molasses Barge and Loon, Brown Angel lacked the hook to reel me in.

Some months later I saw Brown Angel again when they opened for Zao at the Altar Bar.  With Hero Destroyed and Arcane Haven also on the bill, Brown Angel was certainly the odd band out.  However, they were by far, the loudest band performing.  I can remember the upper floor of the Altar Bar vibrating when the drawn out bass notes hit the room.  It was an otherworldly experience.  No other local band has accomplished such a feat thus far.  Since then I began to take more interest in Brown Angel and began to appreciate their approach to music.

With Adam MacGregor leaving Pittsburgh (and the United States), Brown Angel has become decommissioned.  And it is a big loss to see this band go.  They are Pittsburgh’s version of Godflesh, but with more emphasis on the experimental music and having an actual live drummer.  Where most local metal bands followed a certain path, Brown Angel gave our scene an inventive edge. Technical ingenuity was at their soul allowing for a distinct presence.  One can only hope that Brown Angel will inspire others to seek beyond the confines of tradition and normalcy.