Madcap Oxes Action. We have no fucking clue what's going on here. Y'know that old adage about the show not really starting 'til the pants come off? A picture of Isis for which we could devise no clever joke-caption. Aaron Turner gets cozy with the mic. Again, no idea what's going on here. Perhaps it's nap time.

Starting things off with a thunderous wallop were the newest members of the Hydra Head Records family, Chicago natives Pelican. This startlingly young band's molasses-paced brand of stoner metal/hardcore is the relative missing link between snail-metal gods Sleep and hardcore behemoths Converge. Performing songs from their self-released (but soon-to-be re-released by Hydra Head), self-titled EP, the band crushed the audience under a blanket of heavy metal drone so thick and so ensnaring that the walls shook and the whole place felt as though it were about to crumble to its very foundation -- which, if you've ever seen the Empty Bottle's basement, you'll know is entirely possible.

While Pelican's support structure-rupturing set seemed impossible to follow, New Jersey-based trio Dalek made it look as easy as a hooker on prom night. Dalek are the Locust of the underground hip-hop community, submerging their virulent rhymes beneath a sea of manic scratches, cavernous bass drops and gurgling sci-fi FX. Their set was brief -- altogether too brief, according to most of the audience -- but the group sure made good use of its time allotment. Focusing on tracks from their newly-released Ipecac debut From the Filthy Tongues of Gods and Griots, the trio battered the audience with a performance both lyrically thought-provoking and sonically mesmerizing. A hip-hop troupe shouldn't work in this type of environment, but everyone in the place, from baggy-panted beat headz to leather clad metal freaks, bopped their heads approvingly. Even the relatively low volume of their set -- at one point, it was hard to tell whether they were actually performing -- and the Empty Bottle's characteristically crypt-like stage lighting could not diminish their impact.

Baltimore's Oxes were up next, and despite what you might have heard, their live act is a thousand time stranger when it is, quite literally, staring you directly in the face. The Empty Bottle is the perfect environment for their wireless bovine sensory assault. It's nearly impossible to explain the perverse weirdness of standing in the audience next to a guitarist who was, mere seconds earlier, on stage and who will, in all likelihood, soon be strolling over to the bar for a shot of Jägermeister. The band's antics, which gave a whole new meaning to the term "wireless roaming", included full-on rock posturing, regular trips into and through the audience, playing atop wooden boxes, and even a spot of trouser-removal. Once you've seen their live set, you'll never listen to OXXXES the same way again. Unfortunately, when one or two Oxes were busy roaming the packed floor, there was a lot less going on on stage; clearly, the band could push the whole "spectacle" angle a lot further than they have to date.

Isis were the evening's headliners, and while their on-stage antics weren't quite up to the standards set by the Oxes -- due largely to the fact that they had to pack twice as many guys onto the Bottle's teeny stage -- their dense, atmospheric take on progressive hardcore was more than enough to excuse their relative lack of movement/stage banter. Their set was built on a repetitive cycle of bone-hard peaks and meditative valleys -- all stop/start dynamic phrasing and pedal-damaged guitar bliss. While several of the group's compositions were culled from their newest long-player Oceanic, they also dusted off, then promptly blew-apart, older material from Celestial and the SGNL 5 EP. Frontman (and Hydra Head honcho) Aaron Turner eagerly fulfilled (and exceeded) the audience's recommended daily allowance of angsty flailing and raw-throated screaming, leaving no ears unabraded.

The only downside to this mostly satisfying evening of music was the length of the sets. With the exception of Isis, who held the stage for slightly under sixty minutes, the audience was left wanting more -- lots more. Dalek, in particular, performed for what seemed like a miserly twenty minutes -- what the fuck? It's fine to leave the audience wanting more...but maybe not quite so much more!

Article by Jason Jackowiak. Photos by George Zahora.