Friday Night: Every Time I Die and the Acacia Strain at Warehouse Live
"I want to see bodies on top of other bodies!" he hollered.
The crowd was more than happy to oblige that request, sending a steady stream of crowd surfers toward the stage. The group's female fans didn't shy away from the cascading action, and a wheelchair warrior even found himself hoisted overhead a time or two.
Between songs, Buckley praised Texas fans' balls-out energy, recalling good times gone by in Houston from filming the group's "We'rewolf" video here to having his head split open by security at a gig years ago.
ETID rewarded their loyal local fans with a brief medley of Pantera riffs, including the monster breakdown from "Domination" and a few snatches of "5 Minutes Alone." The audience went wild for whatever they did, aiming squarely for complete release. The band egged them on relentlessly, bouncing and thrashing about onstage to a nice mix of cuts from their most recent album, Ex Lives, and older favorites.
The wild, whipping "Ebolarama" and "We'rewolf" had the audience practically climbing the walls before driving them straight into the ground with the crushingly majestic "Indian Giver." Though the studio was jam-packed, the band's bright-eyed intensity drew the crowd in further still, making the room feel even smaller and more intimate by the end.
By the time the band evacuated, audience members' voices were shot and their backs had tightened up. But more important, their every frown had been turned upside down. It's that kind of reliable alchemy that can keep a band smilin' and grindin' through six albums and countless tours down in the darkened crevices of the underground.
Personal Bias: They're the fiancée's favorite band. There was no skipping this one.
The Crowd: Mostly young white guys and gals. One very young audience member was singled out by Buckley for making ETID his first-ever show.
Overheard in the Crowd: "What happened to my glasses?"
Random Notebook Dump: Only at Warehouse Live could we be treated to the spectacle of rap fans dressed to kill running a gauntlet of sweaty, smoking hardcore kids to get into the H-Town's Next Up Hip-Hop Concert. Both groups of music fans seemed bemused by the contrast.