My Name in Vain

Editor’s Note:  This review was submitted by local freelance writer Mike Ritchie. 

Friday August 10th Mcguffy’s House of Rock continued their long running and respected tradition of bringing the best hardest and heaviest bands to Dayton. 2012’s Noise Revolution Tour headlined by Static X and featuring head-liners in the making Davey Suicide and 9 Electric proved that the Hollywood music scene is still cranking out the future headline making notorious metal legends of tomorrow. Also one of Dayton’s finest up and comers My Name In Vain got to show their chops warming up the crowd for the nights inevitable noise and mayhem.

MNIV emerged from the remnants of other dissolved bands bringing together four individuals that refuse to be pigeonholed playing a diverse infusion of influence and style.  They emerged on stage with a nice disco/techno intro with all lights flashing giving an almost Pink Floyd effect to the stage as if saying ‘yep, this is what your all in for tonight’. Singer Josh ‘Slinky’ Miller has some good metal genetics going, resembling/sounding like a cross pollination of Serj Tankian and Sully Erna. They opened with the epic titled By the Gods followed by the first of two songs that mysteriously bare no name. Poor People the first song they composed and penned as a band calls out peoples desire/obsession with the material/trivial world not appreciating what they have, delivered a slow melodic arena sing along chorus ‘Take me to the river bathhouse, me and my shame and hold me under water watch me float on down the stream’ was a performance highlight. Their commentary stance on social media followed with My 2 Cents carrying a ‘destined for controversy’ chorus (you have to see them live to hear it) which they’ll play at weddings and Bar Mitzvahs and ended with The Breakout.

California’s electronic, industrial grooved 9 Electric (9E) delivered the digital mayhem and dance synergy bringing the energy and notoriety of The Hallowed Sunset Strip with an  excruciating non-stop adrenaline seeping set illuminated by an acid-trip blanket of strobes opening with the frantic fist breaker Crank It Up. They performed with the frenzied endorphin rush of a ticking Time Bomb and were the first to use the white background screen showing schizophrenic/story-line imagery and sing-along lyrics reminding fans of Disturbed’s walls of Mayhemfest. Singer Thunderwood resembling Chris Jericho/Stephen Dorf at a distance brought along all the attitude, bravado and rock-star behavior of The Strip owning the stage, mounting the speakers and hanging off the rafters just being himself making him  ‘Your mothers nightmare, the devils dream’ a good reason why you Hate Me. His vocals are surprisingly/refreshingly clean and clear despite his gruff shovel blacktop in your mouth delivery. Fitting since after they say an earthly farewell until a heavenly reunion to a shattered romance with the Cure/Type O Negative laced Goodbye they unceremoniously punched us square in the mouth with a Bullet Tooth. Then make all the ladies feel Filthy inside and all the guys dirty for liking it. With help from Static X’s Ashes on guitar they make sure we could all still Feel This. They finished and Destroy As They Go taking the crowd and making it their own. 9E’s show is a red-eyed fire breathing steel fanged night club/rave come to life.

Next up Hollywood’s answer to what would emerge if Rob Zombie, Dimmu Borgir and Cradle of Filth were thrown into a genetic molecule mixer and a nutty professor spliced and mutated the remnants into a concoction of Murderous Dolls and Zombie Mime’s. Taking the bleak depression and anger from NIN, the Hollywood/LA gutter trash lyrical style of GNR and graveyard fashion tips from Rob Zombie and The Cenobites, over half-dead mortuary escapees Davey Suicide looking like they’ve had a good Shout at the Devil were sung on stage by those adorably cute and creepy jump rope playing Elm Street girls as the rusty hinged gates opened and the band invited us into their own private demented playground. Singer Suicides dread locks look styled to kill or at least slice and maim major arteries on contact. Watching Suicide perform gives a memorial glimpse into his own Theater of Pain and future glimpse of what Marilyn Manson’s hell-spawn offspring might look like. Or if you’ve had enough to drink ‘could’ be mistaken as the Predator. Paying homage to the best of 80’s era glam, sleaze and degeneration they launched into a twisted tirade accompanied by creepier more insidious screen imagery reminiscent of Operation Mindcrime.

They got Dayton’s attention with the ‘monstrous’ Unholywood Killafornia. Then, definitely a bad idea if your judging on appearance but they went to Grab A Gun & Hide Your Morals anyway. Believe it or not they’re really nice blokes after you meet them.They throw out their impression/advise on the Kids of America. I’ll let you ponder the wisdom they have to share. A special lady gets a back alley kiss and bitch slap being the Hustler Queen. Next up as Mr.Suicide explains is the sick Sick Suicide of trying to be original, living, breathing, being your art, working hard and earning your success. After One More Night/God Head was cranked out Suicide had one more rant in him ‘politely’ denouncing reality show fame ‘idols’ and those who do relatively nothing to become famous. Satisfied his point was proven they finished with the bloody fist in glass crowd thumper calling card of the anti-hero/do it your own way and screw the establishment nay-sayers war cry Generation F-Star. His childhood idols/influences can easily be seen in the G.F.S Youtube clip.   Davey Suicide might have had a broken upbringing but he’s channeled all the negative B.S. and past baggage into a beautifully beastly warped vision of blunt honesty and realism.

Next up Hollywood’s guitar shredding, chatter box screeching Mad Scientist. Emerging from the darkness Wayne Static and Co. sporting his infamous Bride of Frankenstein hairdo with white striped goatee greeted the screaming banshees ripping into the first tune making the crowd feel like  they’d been electrocuted by barbed wire. Sludging out selections from six records Losing Your Mind, old-school thrills Bled For Days, I’m With Stupid, mid career tunes Just in Case and Skinnyman were met with rabid and by some, drunken approval. The icy blue chilling rays of Cold slowed it down a little and new-school killer Stingwray rounded out with crowd fav’s Push It with a tasty piece of Cannibal. A selection from his Pig Hammer solo release Assassins of Youth was also served. If Matt Hardy had been a rock-star instead of taking bumps and falling off huge ladders for a living he’d of been Wayne Static. Plus having a few lovely scantily clad ladies in leather, lace and twirling glow in the dark rope is a nice touch to any metal show.    

-Mike Ritchie