|It was a late Wednesday night in Columbus, Ohio. The beer was flowing from the taps behind the bar at the Al Rosa Vila and even the owner, Rick Catella, was dedicated to pouring the cheap beer into 22-ounce plastic cups. It definitely wasn’t the most crowded the club has been. In fact, if you just walked in through the doors, there is no way you would know that at 10:15, Phil Anselmo and Superjoint Ritual were about to take the stage.
Lucky enough to have seen Anselmo in both Down and Pantera, with the light crowd and never having seen Superjoint Ritual, not much was expected. But Anselmo and wrecking crew, with Hank Williams III kicking it on bass, came, saw, conquered and then just continued to kick the shit out of this crowd.
Easily one of the best shows to come to Columbus this year, Superjoint Ritual were tight and raw, they were loud and melodic and had a black, scuffed combat boot planted firmly in the face of everyone.
Anselmo asked the crowd to partake in stage diving, and from then on, the crowd was just as much a part of the show as the 5-man band. And when someone in the crowd yelled for Anselmo to play guitar, he took the Fender decked in Dean Markley strings straight from Kevin Bond, sat at the corner of the drum riser, and strummed away like a Bluesman sitting at the corner of Bourbon Street in his hometown of New Orleans.
But it was when they played their signature jagged metal tunes such as Antifaith, Everyone Hate Everyone and The Alcoholik that Superjoint Ritual rocked the Al Rosa off it’s foundation.
The fact that only a few hundred were on hand could have pissed the band off, but in fact, Anselmo told the crowd, “A lot of people would say having four hundred here to see us is a failure. But this is fucking awesome and just the fucking beginning. Next time around, we will build more metal heads to come and we’ll rock their fucking asses off.”
If someone were to ask what made this show so damn good, it couldn’t be summed up. It was everything, from the maniacs stage diving to Anselmo being close enough to sweat on people. From the band playing tight to the band being loose. Fact is, that is what made this show so good. There is nothing to point to that made it good. It just crept up like a black widow spider and bit ya right on the ass. And after that, all-out mayhem ensued. Some days, it pays to stay up late at night and drink a cheap draft in a plastic cup served from an old man who calls himself the “Rock and Roll Reverend.”