Liam Cormier’s got heart. Not only did he and Cancer Bats turn the inside of the Mod Club into a sweatbox and/or boxing ring seconds after taking the stage on a Tuesday night, Cormier apparently spent the afternoon learning The Black Lungs’ drum parts so frontman (and Alexisonfire guitarist) Wade MacNeil wouldn’t be up there putting the folk in folk-punk. That isn’t just heart like, hey, this Liam guy likes to yell a lot — we’re talking heart on a Rocky scale.
It’s a little easier to be that guy when your band is headlining. I don’t know how Gone Hollywood fared owing to public transit woes, but the guys in A Textbook Tragedy wouldn’t have had to stand in front of a half-full room trying not to sound dejected at the crowd’s lack of enthusiasm if they were opening for a fellow math-metal band. This wasn’t their show, and it didn’t help that the PA congealed their sometimes-intricate twin guitar riffs into fast-moving sludge. They saved the best for last with “Intimidator” (the self-titled cut from their latest album) with clean-cut-looking singer Chris Bahris bellowing almost as wildly as his hands were gesticulating. A smidge more attention to form and melody would help them make friends with strangers.
Opening with — wait for it — “We Are The Black Lungs,” The Black Lungs whipped up a substantial amount of fist-pumping energy with Wade MacNeil’s gutter-romantic punk rock, while Cormier held down the drum parts with competence if not quite ease. It’s not quite virgin territory, with their songs lodging themselves somewhere firmly in Social Distortion and Rancid territory. Still, it’s entertaining enough, and MacNeil makes a compelling frontman with his sideburns dripping with sweat and his arms bulging through his jean vest as he bellows passionate laments for loves lost.
That fans can sing along to the new songs at the record release party can be weirdly disappointing for a band, but it can also be a hell of a rush, as Cancer Bats proved when the crowd went apeshit from the first notes of the title track from their fabulous new disc Hail Destroyer. (Seriously, if you’re like me and you haven’t bought a metal album since Chretien was in office, this is the one to break your fast for.) The Toronto-bred quartet were tight and brutally efficient — in fact, they were the only band I saw who didn’t have a second guitarist, and I dare you to go up to the hirsute and bear-like Scott Middleton and suggest he should get someone else to fill in the parts. It’s been a while since the last good rock’n’roll mauling.
Every riff hit the crowd like a riot squad's fire hose, dividing them into three sections: the crowd surfers and stage divers in the very front; denizens of the mosh pit in the middle; and the rest of us in the back, which was feeling crowded thanks to the generous space granted to the circle pit that Cormier kept inciting from the stage (in between thanking everyone in the venue). The singer was acrobatically flailing and jackknifing between yelps as though he had trained for this gig as a contortionist, while Middleton, bassist Jaye R. Schwarzer and drummer Mike Peters laid into their instruments with controlled intensity.
Along with most of the new record, the Bats peppered cuts from Birthing The Giant throughout the set, sending the audience alight with fan favourites “Shillelagh” and “100 Grand Canyon.” Toronto fans might not be able to guarantee the kind of enthusiasm that culture-starved fans in the rural towns who will quickly push Hail Destroyer into Gold territory, but they certainly went above and beyond the usual T.dot standard.
By the end of their set, Cormier had been giving so many high-fives, he eventually just dove into the crowd, who carried him half way through the room before dissolving into an unexpectedly moving group hug. Then when the crowd started chanting for one more song, Cormier was miraculously borne aloft again and returned to the stage, where they busted out one final number, then disappeared. It was like watching a video of the end of their set, played back in reverse.
In sum, and to take the Roman thing peraps a tad too far: Hail destroyer! Those who have been thoroughly rocked salute you.