The only looming question Sunday at a sold-out Empty Bottle was whether any of the musicians in the two headlining bands would collapse from exhaustion. While they differ in style, Lightning Bolt and Chicago-based Oozing Wound play heavy, aggressive music skewed toward the extremes. Each is anchored by a dexterous drummer that defies limitations associated with endurance and speed. For listeners that put a premium on relentless intensity and volleying percussion, the double bill represented a boon.
Back after a multi-year hiatus and touring behind its first properly recorded album, Lightning Bolt established its reputation via crazed live shows that sometimes find the Providence, R.I. duo performing in the middle of the crowd. Here, bassist Brian Gibson and drummer Brian Chippendale opted for the stage yet bypassed many conventions as they generated an hour-long assault bordering on overload. Donning a gruesome homemade mask, Chippendale battered away with the demented purpose of a madman. He flailed at anything within reach, caring not too much about accuracy but valuing free-jazz expressiveness, feverishness and looseness.
With sweat pouring over his body and saliva spitting from his mouth and microphone contraption, the disguised Chippendale reflected the nightmarish feel of several of the tandem’s stampeding songs. Manipulated with psychedelic effects and further scrambled with incomprehensible howls, berserk fare such as “Over the River and Through the Woods” resembled a house of mirrors. Perceptions were altered, surprises lurked around corners and the distorted clatter shifted between being frightening and funny.
In contrast to his animated partner, Gibson remained calm. He kept the controlled chaos in check with fixed structures, answering Chippendale’s oil-drum thunder with thick, fuzz-choked riffs that sounded like power tools sawing through a forest of kudzu. Gibson’s balancing presence prevented Lightning Bolt from drifting into cartoonish realms, as his mate’s random animal noises occasionally distracted from the proficiency at hand.
Oozing Wound utilized humor more subtly and effectively. The promising trio impressed with taut fare that mixed the paint-peeling fierceness of thrash metal with the sludgy, low-end grooves of stoner rock. Shirtless and seemingly tireless, Kyle Reynolds navigated his drum kit with watch-setting precision. He pounded forceful rhythms that would’ve given a drumline a run for its money, and when crashing the cymbals, looked akin to an outlaw biker reaching out to grip ape handlebars on a motorcycle.
Ugly and menacing, material such as “When the Walls Fell” alternately punched and shrieked. Cut with black comedy and raw edges, Oozing Wound’s songs earned the right to be deemed burners, rippers and jammers.
Bob Gendron is a Tribune freelance writer.
Twitter @chitribent
More Top Picks Best Premium Garden Planters For Enthusiasts